Loki's Epiphany
by cg215
Summary: Sigyn has just rescued Loki from the Great Serpent, saving her own soul from despair in the process; only now, they are both exiled fugitives of Asgard, seeking help in a new realm. (Sequel to Sigyn's Discovery)
1. Exiled Lovers

This story is a sequel to "Sigyn's Discovery" - please read that first if you have not been lead here by it :)

There is a MAJOR EDIT going on to 'restore' the story to its original glory (uncensored a bit). SO, if you're just now starting read this, I would say come back in a week and see the changes :)

.

.

.

.

.

There are nine realms that compile the great tree of Yggdrasill. Each root and branch of the tree connects the worlds in single purpose. With every world, new creatures reign, people live and die; love fades or prevails. The tree itself was created by the Fates, fed upon by the terrible monster Nidhogg, fed by the waters of wisdom in Mimisbrunnr; all the worlds within the tree are a source of grand life and beginning. The greatest of these worlds, Asgard, lies at the very top of the tree, unifying and protecting the realms from dark forces outside of Yggdrasill. On Asgard, the protectors move about each realm by aid of the Bifrost. This grand rainbow bridge transports to any place in the universe of Yggdrasill, though only allowed by the gatekeeper Heimdall.

Thor led the best warriors of Asgard to Jotunheim in the wake of a clandestine attack by a few frost giant soldiers. During a skirmish with the frost giants, Thor's brother, Loki, was not harmed by the enemy's touch, while the rest of those fighting suffered great cold burns at even the slightest contact. This discovery of the prince's true paternity, son to the now deceased frost giant Laufey, sent him into a furious rage over the royal house in Asgard. Loki subsequently attempted to destroy Jotunheim and all its inhabitants, and the Bifrost was destroyed by Thor Odinson himself. Without a means to move between worlds, Asgard was separated from the realms as the Bifrost was rebuilt.

But not all Asgardians used the rainbow bridge to move among realms. The great tree did not intend for any one to be separate from another. It left tremendous energies in small places, accessible only by the most cunning of folk, allowing the connection among worlds to remain constant and unchanging, regardless of machines. The sorcerers of the high worlds best used these portals, known to so few that they could not be documented. Only these great magicians, such as the exiled prince Loki Laufeyson, could navigate the portals without danger.

The realm of Vanaheim is home to the old Vanir gods, true magicians and masters of sorcery. Their love and care for their world, the forests and waters that run freely through the landscape, are echoed in their care for one another. This realm, to the west but not far from Asgard, holds respect from the remaining realms but is not guarded by true law or rulers. It is a peaceful world, if not one trusted to remain self-contained.

Loki is still holding Sigyn's hand as they exit the portal onto an expansive, green pasture. There were quiet, small, funny looking birds flittering above their heads and into the tall trees. His steps are labored and painful; Loki can cast a façade upon his facial burns but cannot mask the sores on his feet. He looks longingly at Sigyn, his expression showing gratitude and guilt, as they keep walking. Their destination is nowhere; they are exiled from their home.

"We should be safe here," Loki whispers, not sure if he is comforting himself or the woman beside him, leading her underneath one of the larger trees. He contemplates the last few months of his life: finally acting as the true Asgardian king, revealing himself to this innocent maiden, even falling in love with her, and now his fate as a fugitive. He questions his motives for keeping her alive, for allowing her to suffer for his sake; why did he not take action when he first met her? What held his hand back from a swift strike to end the possibility of discovery? As Loki's eyes fall upon the ground, seeing again the meager coverings she fashioned for his injured feet, he knows the answer. He knew he could trust her, that she would take care of him, as his mother once did before she was murdered in that same chamber.

"Where are we, Loki?" Sigyn searches the landscape for anything familiar, but this place is so unlike Asgard. Without tall, golden towers of a city, she cannot mark a direction. Sigyn is struck with a different gray moon in the sky, which is rising quickly. This place is beyond foreign to her, and she feels a pang of emptiness in her chest. This world is not her home.

"This, Sigyn, is the realm Vanaheim," Loki presents the open field to her with a gesture of his arm. His eyes feast upon the ever-spreading scene with wonder and happiness, glad to be in a place where he will not be viewed a villain. Loki has been to this world before, though not since his youth. He remembers the Don City, an old stone fortress of Vanir gods and goddesses, practicing magic and tricks with one another.

"Vanaheim was my mother's home once, before coming to Asgard after the war. She taught Odin all he knows of magic..." The revelation gives him pause, and he continues quietly: "She taught me all I know as well." Loki's eyes become hot and itchy with the memory of holding his mother's hand as she walked him through the corridors of the Don City, and the contrasting cold of the river that ran through the center. While Odin and Thor valued strength, Frigga valued the skills of her homeland, and saw the potential in Loki even as a child. She brought him to Vanaheim to teach him the ways of sorcery, granting him the ability of illusion and shapeshifting.

"Why did you want to come here, of all places?" Sigyn is ignorant about the other realms of Yggdrasill, knowing so very little about any world outside her own. She is feeling homesick but free as well, knowing that she undoubtedly missed a feast for the assumed death of Loki back in the great hall.

Loki looks at Sigyn, and holds his hand before his face. He wipes the façade clean, revealing his burns to her for the first time. Sigyn was so consumed with holding the venom above him on the rock that she could not see the damage it had done. Even in the single-tone moonlight, Sigyn gasps at the sight. His eyes are stained with red. His cheeks nearly worn through to the bone. The now short hair is matted to the side, where it was protecting another open gash that he caused while thrashing in pain. Loki again swipes to the front, restoring his healthy appearance so as to not cause her more worry.

"I am injured, Sigyn. I see now that you are as well." Loki points to the sores on her knees, worn in while she turned back and forth to empty her bowl. "Let us hope we find a friend here in this world to help us." Loki stands again and holds his arm to Sigyn, still carrying his green cape at her side. They walk towards the gray moon ahead, not sure of what they will find in the Don City now, if they are able to find it at all.


	2. Gathering Strength

Loki walks with Sigyn for what feels like an eternity. The solitary, large moon ahead reveals itself to instead be several small spheres of blue and pink. The light still illuminates the trees, twisted and so unlike any found on Asgard or even Earth; the plants themselves have souls that speak in hushed whispers with each passing step.

The Eiglophian Mountains lie ahead, overshadowing any city that could be seen in the dim light. Loki cannot help but feel discouraged at their sight. He does not have the strength to pass through them in this state, nor is he certain what he'll find on the other side. This world, like Asgard, is full of people who are mostly unscathed in battle, with long memories, free of illness or disease; this fact makes Vanaheim's inhabitants a dangerous threat should they be discovered by an Asgardian ally. Loki cannot remember if the world simply ends, as Asgard does, dropping the landscape into the open space below. And what if Sigyn grows tired of the searching? What if even her unwavering loyalty falters under the stress? Loki can feel his heart jump to the top of his chest, pounding heavily, just as he loses his balance and falls forward.

Sigyn is so focused on keeping her eyes open and aimed ahead that she doesn't immediately recognize the tug at her arm as Loki falling; she only catches a glimpse of his shutting eyes as he hits the ground, face down. He nearly pulls her down with him, but Sigyn quickly kneels beside Loki, evaluating how worthwhile it is to keep moving in the night. He is unconscious, but breathing. Though his weight seems to increase with every push, Sigyn is able to lay Loki on his side, covering him again with the cape that seemed so trivial when she first took it from Frigga's chamber so long ago. Her eyes scan the landscape for food, water, anything to bring Loki strength.

Sigyn's feet tread lightly on the ground so as to not disturb the alien animals that, no doubt, are watching her every move. She doesn't recognize any of the plants, and cannot be sure if they are safe to consume, or even safe to touch. She passes two, three, maybe even five bushes of sinister looking black berries before finally settling on a vaguely recognizable tree of small yellow apples. At least, Sigyn believes they are apples, and she hurries her feet back to Loki after plucking a few.

The fruit is overly soft, grainy, and tastes almost like something Sigyn would find on her family's meager table in Asgard. Only the finest of fruits are served in the great hall; the remnants of the harvest are distributed amongst the people, lastly to the servants of the house. The meat is so soft that Sigyn is able to twist her fruit in half, snapping the core, revealing the ever-familiar sight of a five-pointed star. It is distorted without a clean cut, but still a star nonetheless. Sigyn remembers how her mother would use golden apples to stamp paint stars on her clothing as a child; a meager decoration for the lower class, but a treasured pattern for any young girl. They may not have been embroidered in gold thread, but Sigyn adored them, as if the stars from the sky were ever present on her skirts. The memory brings a tear to Sigyn's eyes, so long dried out from walking; she stifles the crying, telling herself that if she is not strong for herself, she cannot hope to be strong for Loki, too.

After finishing her single fruit, she crushes another in her hand. Loki is still laying on his side, his breathing shallow and quiet. Sigyn rolls him on his back and drips the sweet juice on his lips, hoping that the wet surprise will open his eyes, even for a moment. Seconds pass, to no avail. Sigyn is forced to lay behind him, his head propped on her lap, as she force-feeds Loki. "At least the fruit is soft," she thinks, getting him to swallow in his sleep, careful not to touch his face where he showed her the awful burns earlier. Instead she finishes off the fruit and leans backward, his head still propped on her lap, and tries to fall asleep. His shoulder is not perfectly in place after she reset it, but Sigyn is confident that if Loki should roll upon it while resting that it won't cause him more grief tomorrow.

"Please sleep, dear one," she whispers under her breath, hoping that in Loki's dreams he can see her. Sigyn knows where her heart lies, firmly within his hands, but she cannot help but worry that his heart is locked away in a realm too far to know.

...

Loki is treading through fire. He shields his face with his arms, burning them through the skin, boiling him from within. The only sounds that register in his ears are loud sirens of screams, his own screams and those of the damned. The fire burns his face, singes his hair, forces his eyes shut from the bright licks of flame. Loki is searching for a balm, any relief, and raises his head. Loki opens his eyes for only a moment to see his brother Thor, long in the distance, his red cape waving behind him. Loki cries out for him, but the only sound he can produce is a loud, open-mouthed wail of pain. His jaws are tightly locked in position, leaving him without the power of articulation. Thor looks Loki squarely in the face, recognizing the agony and distress, and turns away. Thor's stride is confident and strong, walking firmly in the opposite direction of Loki, abandoning him. Loki looks down to see the chains around his ankles, trapping him in the fire, which has become a river of ghostly souls that grab his arms and pull him in. Loki recognizes the emotion as familiar, the abandonment of Thor; his older brother leaving Loki to suffer in the hours of most dire need. He closes his eyes a final time, and surrenders to the flames.

...

Sigyn shakes Loki awake in the slightest light of dawn. The look on her face is one of concern and fear, even desperation of her voice calling his name. Loki can barely hear her over the screams that still ring in his ears from the serpent's attack. His eyes flicker open, just a slit at first, then wide to devour the surroundings. She breathes a loud sigh of relief; but why does she look so exhausted?

"You were screaming in your sleep; I was afraid you might beckon some great animal, or even a hunter." Sigyn has been trying to wake him for almost a full hour, as Loki writhed on the ground. Her hands are still sticky with the fruit from last night, now covered in dirt. She looks like a soldier emerging from a long battle, with her clothing torn and her hair matted. "Now that you are awake, please try to eat and gather your strength."

Loki sits up, touching his thumbs to his forefingers, trying to grasp a sense of what is real. Was his vision true? He grasps one of the small fruits that Sigyn was offering him and takes a deep bite. The taste is familiar, though if he is registering some memory while he was unconscious, he can not say. Instead of thinking too hard about his current circumstance, Loki eats and breathes, eyes closed to focus on just those two things.

When he opens his eyes again, the light is coming over the horizon enough to show a small fortress at the base of the mountains. Surely they could make that before the moonrise again? Sigyn sees the building as well, and they say nothing as they both rise to their feet.


	3. Fortress Found

The fortress rises above the trees. The gray stones required no mortar between them; it was as if the stones were cut to fit together like pieces in a grand puzzle. The craftsmanship of the stonework is truly remarkable; the symbols carved into the rocks so precise and symmetrical, perfect in their worn imperfection. Loki and Sigyn look at the gateway apprehensively; they are both practically naked, physically and emotionally, vulnerable to whatever is beyond the doorway.

Loki, still shaken from the vision he had earlier, stands straight in front of the door, raising himself to his full height. He looks at Sigyn, signaling for her to do the same. Loki waves his hand before them both, clothing them in the same illusionary fashion he had when they met.

Loki is regal in his minor armor. His hair is now long and touches his shoulders, as it did before. His coat, a dark green where once it was a shiny black, comes up to his chin and frames his face, leading down to the gold detail on the lapels. Instead of heavy metal armor, most of his outfit is stretched leather; his breastplate intertwining belts of thick green and black fabric. His arms are now covered to the wrist in his signature green. The tied shoes Sigyn fashioned for him vanish beneath thick, black boots. But his golden crescent, the symbol over his heart that is consistent in nearly all Loki wears, shines brightly into Sigyn's eyes, giving her the same excitement she felt when she admired Loki from afar while growing up. It appears he is not concerned with being recognized in his true form. In the bright sunlight of Vanaheim's almost purple atmosphere, Loki is beautiful.

Sigyn becomes beautiful as well, with Loki's magic transforming her into the royal maiden she had always dreamed of being. Her gray robes are quickly covered in a shining light that reveals a purple and pink iridescent robe. A metal, decorative breastplate molds her chest. The scratches on her face and hands have dissipated. Her hair is half up in her signature coif, with the rest falling in soft curls around her shoulders. Her feet are no longer wrapped in the soft cloth shoes she's so accustomed to; now, she wears a golden, heeled slipper. She sees her reflection in the crescent on Loki's chest and recognizes that her eyes are painted in the same hues of her gown. Never one for the fancy makeups worn by the noblewomen, she hardly recognizes herself.

Loki peers at her finished transformation, and smiles widely at her, both impressed by his work and by her beauty.

"I would have done this sooner if this thing wasn't so damned uncomfortable," Loki jests with her, gesturing at his outfit. Sigyn can imagine how he feels; now that she is covered, she almost misses the feeling of breeze against her legs. Sigyn can still feel her sore knees even beneath the illusion, and now understands how Loki is able to cover his pain so convincingly and yet still be injured. He turns again to the doorway and knocks loudly.

The small person who answers the door is a crone. Her hair is white and braided to the side of her face. She is dressed in the same sort of modest robe that Sigyn was accustomed to seeing in the palace servantry. The old woman has to crane her neck upward to get a good look at Loki and Sigyn, but does not falter in her stance. She is confident.

"Good lady, would you please show us in to this fortress? We are weary travelers from another realm, searching for nourishment. We will be on our way before the next sunrise." Loki is so convincing, so smooth in his words, that Sigyn wonders they are spells themselves. Sigyn says nothing. She is merely a statue at his side, holding his cape in her arms as she would a large shawl. Loki gives himself an innocent look by placing one hand around the small of Sigyn's back, and the other behind his.

The old woman remains silent. She nods her head in agreement as she turns to lead them in. Loki gestures for Sigyn to enter, the quintessential gentlemen even while in pain. The gate door shuts loudly behind them.

The fortress is a great wall, surrounding an almost inconsequential city. The people live in tents made with animal skins. There are open fires before each tent, providing warmth and means to cook, though in the heat of this beautiful day they hardly seem necessary. Loki strolls through with Sigyn at his side, turning his head this way and that to take in all potential threats. He does not trust anyone. All of the Vanirs in this village are old like the woman who opened the gate. Some of them peer out of their tents to catch a glimpse of the visitors, but none of them look afraid, or even whisper to one another. Loki remembers something his mother taught him, that the people of this world have magic and skills to speak without speaking; he knows that while they remain silent to his ears, they are not at all silent to each other.

They reach the center of the fortress. Loki and Sigyn are suddenly surrounded by people. Loki never lets go of Sigyn's left hand, squeezing it once, letting her know that he senses her fear. She is frozen with all their eyes upon her. But Loki is not afraid, and drops his shoulders slightly in defense.

"I am Loki, son of Frigga, great sorceress of Vanaheim." Upon hearing Frigga's name, one of the old women steps out from the crowd to get a better look at him.

Before Loki is able to speak again, he feels a change happening in his fingers. They are tingling, and he can only see spots before him. Panic begins to set in. Where he was so confident at the door, now his breath is labored. He is acting as if he has seconds to speak before going into battle. His strength is waning, and now his heart beats hard in desperation to find help. Loki no longer cares about trusting them. Even the relief in holding Sigyn's hand no longer distracts from the sizzling pain all over his body.

"The woman at my side is Sigyn." He breathes in deeply, trying to stay upright. "We are exiles of Asgard, our only home."

Sigyn is struck by Loki's honesty, and wonders why he's had a change of heart to so openly reveal their mission, or lack thereof. Before she gets a chance to give him a look of concern and question his actions, Loki's façade drops. The small amount of strength left to him by the apples is gone, and even his spells require some degree of vigor. The people surrounding them gasp loudly, the only sound they've made since the strangers walked in. Sigyn is still holding Loki's hand when he falls to his knees, his face showing every singular burn, his hair short and matted, his shoulder bruised and still slightly out of place. She notices that her grand robes have dissolved back into her torn robe, and she sits on her knees as well, letting out a quiet hiss at her own wounds.

Loki's head falls to face the ground. His bare back shows the still fresh lashes he received from Odin in Asgard before he was sent to his death, only days ago. Sigyn squeezes his hand hard, as if to say, "I am still here." She feels a weak response: one squeeze, a weak second... she anticipates a third, but does not receive one. Loki is barely able to choke out words.

"Help me. Please help me." Loki collapses on the ground in a heap, no longer breathing.


	4. Help at Last

The crowd of Vanir people close in on Loki and Sigyn, shuffling their feet. Sigyn thinks they are eerily quiet for being so organized. She still clutches Loki's limp hand, hoping to feel some kind of life from it, but the old woman who answered the gate stands in front. The crone looks at Sigyn and pulls her hand from Loki's as a group of men carry him away. Sigyn is yelling after them, pleading to go with them and calling Loki's name, but her hands are being pulled by a group of women in the opposite direction. When she watches them disappear into a tent on the far end of the fortress, she gives in to the tugs of the women and ducks her head into one herself.

The women lead her to a cot that sits in the center of the tent. Sigyn has to remain hunched to walk through it, she is so much taller than the other women. She lays down and watches them fuss over her many scratches, half of them Sigyn didn't even know she had. They apply a dewy gel to her lip, where she bit through it after falling on the rock. Her forearm, scratched in the same motion, is wrapped in a tan hide. They remove the rest of her torn rags of clothing, leaving her naked on the cot as she is examined. The women try to take the cape with them as it is now covered in dirt and appears worthless; Sigyn yells sternly after them.

"No, no please..." Sigyn holds her hands outward towards the woman who holds the cape. "Take anything but that, please."

The woman looks at Sigyn, puzzled as to why she would want to keep this dirty old blanket, and finally speaks, "I will wash it, young one, and bring it back to you." Before Sigyn can object to her offer, the woman turns and exits the tent. It dawns on Sigyn that all that is left of Loki, even so much as the blood smeared on that cape, is all that she might have of him after this day.

...

Loki is still not breathing when the men lay him on the cot in their tent. One of the community's sorcerers, an old man named Freyr, sits at Loki's head and whispers an incantation. The men join hands around Loki's cold body, closing their eyes, and echoing the chant.

Minutes pass with no changes. Freyr still speaks his quiet spell aloud until the rest of the men are repeating it on their own; he holds out his hands flat before him, and blows across his fingers. A bright red mist appears, almost coming out of the hands themselves, and finds its way into Loki's mouth. The incantation grows louder, the men squeezing each others' hands in fervor, while Freyr watches Loki's eyes closely.

In a thunderous snap, Loki's eyes open, and he gasps for air.

...

It is lucky that, of all places, Loki and Sigyn stumbled upon the forest city of these Vanir folk, known for their healing and harvest abundance. There is no shortage of food in the village; in fact, the fruits and vegetable plants seem to multiply in the storage tents, never leaving a single mouth unfed. For a world that is so primitive compared to Asgard's luxury, the people are simple and happy. They have all they need.

Despite the few days that pass, Sigyn and Loki are still separated. The people still mostly speak in ways that only fellow Vanir can hear. Sigyn's sores, bruises and other wounds are almost completely healed by the end of the third day here; she finds herself wandering the narrow streets between tents, learning some names and faces, trying to acclimate herself to what will inevitably be her new home. She wears clothing now that is similar to that of the women here: a dark brown tunic that covers just past her knees, strapped sandals made of animal hide, a carved stick that holds her hair in place. The woman who took Loki's cape is nowhere to be found; Sigyn admits that the real reason she has been trying to meet everyone is in her quest to locate it.

She may be separated from Loki, but she knows he is alive by the screams that escape his tent each night.

Loki's wounds, so much more serious than Sigyn's scratches, are not simple to resolve, even for the most skilled healers. A mix of the same gel used on Sigyn's lip is combined with a potion, something that came out of a yellow bottle, and spread across the venom burns. His whole face is wrapped in the tan hide bandages. On his back, the whiplashes struck so deep that the healers have to stitch the skin together with sinew. His shoulder is reset by a strong man of the village, held in place with a splint that keeps Loki's whole left side steady as it heals. Loki's feet, so badly worn from being dragged, are equally bound as his face. He is not recognizable, save for the fact that he is the only man of his height in this place, and the only one to be injured this drastically since the great war.

The screams that come from Loki's tent are not due to his many procedures. Loki's mind, isolated from the world, is trapped in the fiery hell in which Thor left him.


	5. Confessions and Secrets

On the fourth night in the village, Sigyn can no longer listen to Loki's screams. She runs from her tent to his, barred by the old man Freyr. He guards the tent without a weapon, just his stance.

"Please let me see him." Sigyn is not teary at this encounter. Instead, she is strong, commanding to see Loki. Her voice is low, gruff, and tired. She is in no mood to sit and wait for him to heal and wake from yet another nightmare.

Freyr considers her request. His eyes shift to and fro, not giving away any of his thoughts to Sigyn. She only stares harder at him, standing as straight and tall as possible, trying to intimidate him into letting her in.

He stares right back. The tension is tangible. But finally, Freyr moves aside.

Sigyn is not prepared to see Loki in this state, tied down to his cot, almost completely bandaged from head to toe. His neck is arched backwards in the screaming, almost bellowing as he did on the rock; the only articulation to the sound is a wide-open mouth, as his lips still cannot touch beneath the bandage. His hands are squeezed tightly into fists; Sigyn worries that without a cloth, his fingernails will soon draw blood in his palms.

Sigyn sits at his side, and in the privacy of the tent finally sheds a tear. Her hand rests upon his bandaged face, trying to get him to relax and stop straining. She whispers his name into his ear, almost singing it, which seems to calm the yelling slightly. Sigyn sits on the ground by the cot for over an hour, repeating the same ritual, until the screaming finally turns into quiet peace. Perhaps Loki has woken up, or maybe he has escaped whatever fate lied in his dreams; either way, he is finally calm in the deep night.

Sigyn's hand moves from the bandage on his face to his hand, which is no longer clenched in a strong fist. Loki cannot speak. But his hand does open to hers.

She rubs his tied-down hand against her cheek, and his index finger extends to feel her features. She kisses it once, and nuzzles it again. Sigyn keeps her hand on his as she props her head against his ear. Squeezing with each syllable, she whispers to him:

"I love you," three squeezes in sequence. It is the first time the words escaped her lips. They ran in her mind several times while on the rock, even when locked in the cells of Asgard's prison. She would never have known it had they not been forced to face such trial; even in the last two weeks they have discovered each other's nature, nearly dying together, and become refugees from their home. The time has felt like so much longer after four days spent apart, and Sigyn cannot help herself if there is still a chance that Loki will never truly awaken.

Her fears are relieved when she feels four distinct squeezes back from Loki, clearly meant to represent his response to her confession: 'I love you, too.'

...

Loki and Sigyn's affair continues to blossom during their time in the encampment. Loki's wounds are finally starting to show signs of healing. The nightmares are becoming less frequent. Sigyn visits his tent often, stopping to check on his progress and to sing for him each afternoon. She learns small folk songs from the people in the village, and is surprised to find she has a voice that is well suited to their music. Loki is no longer tied to the cot. Though he is still heavily bandaged and cannot see, the hand that is not held back by the splint plays with hers as she sits with him, every so often squeezing in conversation.

Loki is very aware of his circumstance now that the visions have finally tapered. Sigyn's visits help to pass the time, waiting to remove the bandages. Has it been days, weeks? He often replays their first encounters together in his mind, only adding to the building desire within him to see her again. With all the time in the world to consider their affair, Loki often wanders into fantasy. Through all the care that Sigyn has given him over the past few months since they met, Loki knows where her heart lies with him; in his ultimate vulnerability, he has no choice but to trust her with his heart in turn. But it does not change the fact that much of his love, though kind and genuine at times, stems greatly from his lust to have her again.

Loki also holds a great secret from Sigyn. The visions of hell that trapped him have become a fight to step out of the flaming river. Thor turns away from Loki in the dream, but is then replaced by a figure that Loki does not recognize. It is a great god, the god of the underworld, commanding the souls that so readily pulled Loki into the fire in the first vision. Loki knows that the dreams are not products of his illness; being on Vanaheim has awoken something within him, an ability to communicate across distances.

He's being beckoned to war.


	6. New Hobby, New Face

The women who accompany Sigyn during the day are eager to teach her the ways of the Vanir. After a number of weeks spent learning songs, customs, and mastering how to properly tie her tunic, Sigyn is finally questioned about Loki's illusion.

"The man you came with showed great sorcery when you arrived; what magic do you possess, Sigyn?" This woman's name is Grid, and she was the one who opened the door to them on the first day at the village. She has been Sigyn's most constant companion since the very first day, acting almost as a grandmother would.

"I have no magic within me; Loki was taught by his mother, Frigga. She used to live in this place, though that is all he told me." Sigyn does not know what else to say about the queen, even after spending so many nights in her chambers during battle. "I knew Frigga for a short while, but the only thing she taught me was how to fight."

Grid scans Sigyn's face, and takes her hands. "We all have magic, dear. Let me show you." Grid's old hands are wrinkled and dark from the sun. They shake ever so slightly. She positions Sigyn's hands in an open position, curved like a bowl. With a quiet incantation, the form of a small Vanaheim apple appears, floating above the cupped hands. Grid guides Sigyn's fingers in angles around it, manipulating the projection. While the glowing fruit mesmerizes Sigyn, Grid slowly removes her hands, allowing Sigyn to change the illusion by herself. She clasps her palms together, squelching the image, opening slowly to see it grow again from her own energy. When she spreads her arms too far apart, the apple itself seems to burst into nothing, ending the trick.

"Very good for your first time," Grid tells Sigyn. "Let's try something else."

They continue to practice simple tricks as the days go on, starting with the easiest charms. Sigyn quickly learns how to light a candle with a wave of her hand, and how to create small illusions, much like the apple Grid created for her. Her first tries are sloppy and poorly formed, but bright with her inner energy. She understands that her spells are only as healthy as she feels.

Sigyn decides not to tell Loki of her newfound hobby.

She becomes stronger in her magic as they continue practicing. Full-body illusions, like the ones that Loki so famously creates, take years of skill to master; Sigyn is now much more impressed with his abilities, having given a hand at it herself. Grid's lessons are growing more difficult with each passing day, and the old woman is sometimes impatient with Sigyn's constant questions about what can and can't be done with the magic. 'Are love spells real?' 'Can time be altered?' 'Has a sorcerer ever lived in an illusion so long that the illusion became real?' Grid does not have the answer to many of them.

"What about cold spells? Can I learn to put the candle out?" Sigyn asks this one, thinking of the first time she met Loki, and the cool air that rushed off his fingertips. Surely that would be an incantation similar to the one that lit the flame?

"I do not know of any cold magic." Grid's reply comes with a cock of her head, true confusion. It seems this magic was not taught to Loki here, and Sigyn drops the subject.

...

It is evening when Freyr comes to Loki's tent, alone. He puts a charm on the doorway so that they are not disturbed. The old man stands beside Loki, and speaks aloud for the first time since the life spell:

"You should be healed enough now to walk. Do you want to try?" Freyr's voice is scratchy and old, but oddly familiar to Loki. Too familiar. Loki raises his hand in affirmation.

The old man starts at Loki's feet, removing the bandages individually. Every inch of skin now exposed to the air inflames in goosebumps. Moving up the legs, now taking off the left side splint, Loki lets out sighs of relief for his stiff muscles. He sits up for the first time in weeks. The stitches for his back have dissolved as planned, leaving very little scarring from the whiplashes.

Loki is most anxious to remove the coverings on his face, and he starts to tear at the bandage hides behind his head. Freyr grabs his hands, insisting that only he should remove them. Loki is impatient, but obliges. He continues to breathe, focusing on the darkness that he's been cursed to for so long now. Loki considers what his first words will be when he is again able to speak.

When the final strip is taken off his face, Loki is already squinting his eyes from the light now seeping in. The tent is barely lit at all, but is still a shock for a man denied of vision. He stretches his lips this way and that, finally feeling them touch again; under the bandages, they were separate so as not to heal together. He feels his face gently with his hands, rubbing his eyelids, checking the form of his nose. Save for a small scar on the bridge between his eyes, Loki looks like his old self again. The work of the Vanir healers is truly remarkable; the sheer degree of his burns had Loki convinced he would forever be disfigured. His hair, having since been left to grow in the bandages, now reaches halfway down his neck. An acceptable length for the fallen prince.

He opens his eyes, searching for something familiar. When they fall upon Freyr, a graying old man who holds Loki's cape in his arms, he gasps to himself. Should he trust his vision? Is the demon in his dreams playing a trick on his senses?

"Uncle?"


	7. How Dare She

Freyr holds his arms open to Loki, taking him in for the first time since he was a child. When Frigga brought him to Vanaheim to learn magic, Freyr looked after him while his sister focused on diplomatic relations with Asgard. Loki cannot describe his comfort in seeing family, true family, after being cast out of his home. Freyr is tall for a Vanir, but still not tall enough to hold Loki's full weight, and he suggests they sit together to discuss the circumstances.

"Loki, how did you end up here? What happened to you?" Freyr didn't bother asking Sigyn, since his place was to guard Loki's tent in the event that whomever they were running from came after him.

"I was cast out, Uncle, my birthright stolen from me," Loki retells the story to Freyr, from the battle on Jotunheim to the great serpent on the rock. His intensity grows with each betrayal recounted, every detail relived. But he calms again when finishing his tale, catching up to this moment: "I took Sigyn to Vanaheim because I did not know where else we could go. I was too recognizable on Midgard since the Chitauri attack, and too weak to allude the humans with illusion. I knew that even if I had died here, Sigyn could have stayed and remained safe."

"What happened to Frigga, Loki?"

Loki is silent at this question. He looks longingly at Freyr, saying everything and nothing all at once. His guilt and pain shines through his eyes. Freyr nods in understanding, and changes the subject.

"The woman you brought, she is special to you?" Freyr has seen her visit him each day. He saw her with Loki's cape when they arrived. He knew where it had come from after Loki announced himself, assuming the true ownership; after all, where else could such a green have come from, save Vanaheim? Frigga had chosen the color for her son after seeing him admire the shade in the realm's vibrant plant life.

"Yes..." Loki is faced with the question without warning. He has no one to answer to but himself and his uncle. There is no shame in truth. But he reaffirms his answer. "Yes, she is. I owe her my life."

"Do you care for her beyond that? Or do you feel obligated to return her affection?" Spoken like a true family member, looking out for Loki's welfare. Freyr eyes Loki with his head tipped, almost as if he is trying to look past Loki's dark green eyes and directly into his thoughts.

Loki shrugs. It seems even he does not know the right answer.

...

Freyr brings Loki a basin to wash in, and a freshly made tunic to dress, before leaving him alone with his thoughts. As Loki cleans himself and actually eats for the first time in what feels like ages, he considers his uncle's question. How can he focus on Sigyn now, with such a call for revenge coursing through his veins? He initially resents the thought, as he did Sigyn's insistence to be the only thing on his mind while the Chitauri attacked Asgard. Did she really think that lovemaking was the only thing he would ever want or need after their first night together? Sure, he could think of little else while healing; but now, his mind is poisoned with negative emotion and resentment. A side effect of the nights spent treading through hell after Thor's image.

As he did while trapped in bandages, he goes over their two intimate nights together again in his head, talking himself through the process. The first was so gentle, so welcoming and healing for his heart. She cared for his wounds and then cared for his soul, granting him entrance, compromising for his injury. But then she was so cold the next day, dismissing herself for his denial to return the cape to her. It was not hers to keep! Then again, did he tell her that it was? Was that what he told her the night they first met?

Could it be that Loki had misinterpreted her denial of him as malice, when she simply felt hurt?

The second night echoes again, reminding him of her stern refusal to begin. How she told him he'd betrayed her; that the only thing she'd asked for was not to be harmed. But he had hurt her in letting her believe he cared for her, didn't he? Loki is confusing himself. Did she not force herself upon him in the end? Or did he take her by force, commanding her every move, and she obliged every instruction? The questions keep coming, only mucking up the original inquiry:

Does he really love her?

Loki remembers hearing her voice in his dreams, calling out to him. Only she could tame the fires of hell within his mind. He recalls her squeezing his hand, confessing her feelings to him in desperation, certainly because she believed he would not wake. He responded, didn't he? Did he not tell her that he echoed her emotion? Loki is now pacing the room, getting dressed after pulling his hair back behind his face.

He remembers the pathetic excuse for shoes she gave him on the rock, after saving his life. Saving his life! But did that mean he owed her what he had left? Was he required to love the woman who sacrificed herself for his honor? Loki feels more like himself than he has in ages. His hands are fisted, pulling both his arms into tension. How dare she leave him to owe her anything!

Goddess of Fidelity, indeed, Loki thinks to himself. With most of his strength restored, Loki casts an illusion over himself to appear as one of the old Vanir men. He resolves to find her in the village, to decide whether it is his heart or his obligated mind that cares for Sigyn.


	8. Loki's Epiphany

The villagers have gathered at the center of the fortress, celebrating the season's harvest moon. The bonfire in the middle crackles and pops while some of the Vanir dance in intricate patterns around it, hands joined and above their heads. The night is unbelievably clear, under the bright moons that form the largest light in the sky that Loki has ever seen. Everyone is steeped in conversation, talking and eating, happy in their status as isolated folk of the mountains.

The hair on the back of Loki's neck stands on end when he hears a familiar voice; Sigyn is laughing heartily with the old women, the center of attention in a small group to the side of the dancers. His heart is racing to see her face. She is smiling widely, the first smile he's seen on her face in ages, truly enjoying herself with the local folk. They are taking turns sharing stories, talking about the first plants they grew as children, or the first time they used a spell. How could Sigyn be enjoying this so much?

Loki's heart is softening to watch her. She looks so graceful, dressed in the brown tunics of the people. She is by far the most beautiful. Not just because of her age, but because of her towering height even while sitting, and the flow of her dark hair around her face. When she smiles, her cheeks pitch inward a little, revealing a dimple that Loki didn't even know she had. Her eyes squint into small crescents when she really laughs. Her hands are extended in front of her, gesturing with every word of a story Sigyn is telling about her childhood. Her turn clearly ends, and she cranes her long, slender neck in the direction of someone else. She leans forward to hear the story better; even with people she doesn't know, Sigyn is ever interested in learning, and does so with the courtesy and care to listen closely.

One of the stories causes a chorus; they begin singing a short folk song about the harvest moon, clapping in time. Sigyn's voice towers above all of them; she is singing beautifully, with true joy reflecting on her face. The eyes of all the women surrounding Sigyn gaze at her with wonder at her remarkable talent. The sound of Sigyn's song is forcing Loki's stomach downward.

Has she always had such an effect on him?

Loki is trying hard to hold on to the resentment he had in his tent. The negative emotions are so much more comfortable, more palatable, than this unfamiliar wrench of an uneasy stomach. The feeling makes him nauseated, restless. He looks down to see his hands fidgeting with each other, cracking his knuckles, picking his fingernails. Loki makes a point to force his hands behind his back. He purses his false bearded lips to resist any semblance of happiness at watching Sigyn interact with the villagers.

Something snaps in the sky like a lightning bolt, at first forcing Loki to jump. But as he looks around at the townsfolk, it is clear that someone just set off an incantation. He closes his eyes and focuses on going back to the hell he's been trapped in, but sees nothing. Instead of feeling burning heat, he is now aware of the cold breeze that washes over his skin. No one is waiting to talk to him in his mind; there is no threat, no imminent danger or demand. The only person here that wishes to speak with Loki is sitting in front of him, joyfully curling her toes while she laughs.

As he keeps gazing upon her, something peaceful comes over him. His blood is no longer boiling with anger and resentment. He cannot remember why he was so ignited by his uncle's question. In this split second of clarity, Loki's mind wanders to the burned image of his feet wrapped in the shreds of her robe.

Care. That is why he loves Sigyn. Because she cares for him, much more than just love, as his mother did. Loki cannot think of Thor, or his revenge anymore in this moment. He allows his body to relax, and his pursed lips fall into a slight smirk.

She does something next that truly surprises him. He gets close enough to hear her next story, and she begins by recounting how her mother would use the apples of the palace's great hall to stamp stars on her skirts. The women around her look puzzled, and one old crone asks her how an apple could be used to make a star. Sigyn tries to explain, but is met by looks of confusion on all of their faces. So she changes her plan, and smirks, happy to teach the women something new. Concentrating, she holds her arms out in front of her.

Between her hands, Sigyn creates the image of a glowing yellow apple. It glows with a pinkish tinge, typical for a beginner. With a flick of her fingers, the apple cuts itself in half, and she turns her wrist to reveal the inside pattern: seed pods that arrange in the form of a star. The women clap, not having noticed it before; one of them mentions that they never cut their apples since they are so small. Sigyn smiles and continues telling her story, as if her tiny spell was something she was well versed in.

Loki blinks his eyes twice, registering what he has seen. Sigyn is learning to use magic! His heart warms to see how well she did, though he cannot be sure how long he's been infirmed, and therefore how long she's been practicing. But the feat is impressive from the former servant girl whose only skills before were fighting and conquering hardened souls.

He dissipates his disguise and walks silently within the crowd; to the men, Loki is an interesting sight, but they say nothing. Loki's eyes fall on Freyr's, and he smiles. Freyr nods in understanding of his plan and intention. Loki continues to tip toe through the villagers until he is just behind Sigyn.

She is very distracted by the stories being told by the other women, who have made no indication that the tall man has approached her. In a sudden, synchronized trick, all of the women including Sigyn clap their hands and blow, sending mists of different colors up into the sky to the harvest moon. Loki kneels behind Sigyn just enough to whisper in her ear.

"Wow, that was very good, Sigyn, can you do it again?"

Sigyn whips her head around almost too fast, and meets eyes with Loki. Her smile widens even further; her eyes even sparkle at his sight. She exclaims a loud yell of happiness and excitement as she jumps to her feet. Loki rises and catches her just as she falls into him; he lifts her into his arms, leaning back to pick her feet up off the ground. They stand together, embracing, with their eyes closed. In this moment, the only people who exist are each other. The crowd of Vanir people clap at their reunion.


	9. Tender Reunion

It's hard to say how long Loki holds on to Sigyn, as he buries his face in her hair and breathes her in. His hands tighten around her brown tunic, squeezing her as tightly as he can. He whispers into her ear:

"I am sorry, Sigyn. I am so sorry if I ever doubted you." Loki knows she doesn't have a clue what he's referring to, but he doesn't care. He feels guilty for the lapse of judgment that caused him to search for her in anger. The sensation of her breath on his neck makes him pull her in even tighter, and she reciprocates with her arms around him. "I love you, Sigyn." Loki shakes his head at his own doubt. "I'm so, so sorry."

Sigyn pulls away just enough to put her feet back on the ground. Her face is streaming with tears of happiness, which is such a joyful change from the usual reasons. She embraces him once more, standing on her tiptoes to reach his ears, and whispers back:

"I love you, Loki. I always have. I'm just so glad to see you." Sigyn pulls him close one more time before releasing to look at his face. She traces her fingers across his nose, only seeing the single flaw between his eyes, which is hardly noticeable in this light. Sigyn puts her palm down against his cheek in her signature movement, spreading her fingertips up through his hair. Loki closes his eyes in comfort, and in his usual echo, reaches his hand up to grasp hers. He smiles widely at her, and raises his head to address the crowd.

"Thank you, great Vanir men and women, who have restored us!" The people cheer in response. Sigyn turns to face them as well, but Loki presses her body against his, not wanting her to leave his side. Loki's revelation has made him oddly possessive. He raises his arm as a gesture to all of them: "I propose a blessing on this harvest moon, may it be a rebirth for each of us!" Even louder cheers follow this claim, and Loki looks down at Sigyn, who is still wide-eyed in shock from his surprise arrival. He takes her hand again and squeezes three times in the code they invented while he couldn't speak.

Loki walks with Sigyn around the fortress for hours, hands behind his back, with his head slightly lowered in submission to her stories. He listens to her explain the last six or so weeks he's been in treatment. She tells Loki who lives where, what the Vanir people do in this village, how she came to start learning magic with Grid, even stories they have told her of the Don City. Loki listens intently to every word. She often gets too excited and talks so fast that she is difficult to understand, but Loki's expression is one of admiration, finally returning the constant gaze to Sigyn that she gave him so many times while they grew up.

When the two of them finally reach Loki's tent, the whole village has quieted to a dull whisper of crackling wood from the various bonfires. Loki holds out his hand to Sigyn, inviting her inside, and she smiles at him as she enters the tent. He follows with a similar smirk.

Their height forces the two of them to kneel together on the floor; Loki moves the small cot to the side and places the meager blanket down on the ground. If he had not already hidden his cape, this would be a good time for it, but Loki decides to save that reveal for another time.

Loki faces Sigyn, still slightly towering above her as they sit on their knees. For a few moments, they only stare at each other in anticipation. Sigyn starts to speak, but Loki places his slender finger in front of her lips, shushing her words. Even his eyes squint a little and his head shakes, commanding the silence. The hand that reached up in front of her face moves upward to trace the bridge of Sigyn's nose, then her eyebrow, and her ear. Loki is studying her. His other hand raises and he is soon examining every curve and divot in her face. One of his fingertips finds the small crease of the dimple on her cheek, and he smiles. Sigyn's eyes follow his gaze as he looks her over. Both of his hands curl fingers in her long locks as they trail downward.

At this point, Loki's hands lift off her body and he calculates how best to continue. He finds the intricate knot at her side, and slowly unwinds each piece of ribbon until it unlocks. Sigyn's tunic opens slightly, available for him to see her body. But instead of devouring her with his hands as he had planned to do so many times while healing, Loki's movements are slow and deliberate. He lets the tunic open on its own, revealing her collarbone and a strip of pale skin between her breasts. They are supple and large enough to keep the tunic mostly closed in front, even as it hangs off her shoulders; only the distinct shadow beneath them gives away their shape. He takes a single fingertip and traces the exposed flesh, now counting small freckles that are spattered about.

Loki reaches her breasts and leans forward, cupping one of his hands beneath the open tunic around her. Sigyn leans her head back and exhales loudly at the sensation, the tenderness and anticipation building to such a point that she is breathing heavily. His other hand mimics the movement to the other side, pushing the tunic aside and allowing it to slide off her shoulders and down to the floor, now only covering below her belly. Loki adjusts his hands and now leads them down her arms, only his fingertips touching, tickling down to Sigyn's hands. He takes them both and notices that she is almost shivering, hyperventilating in excitement, itching to move forward and take him in.

He leans and touches his forehead to hers. Sigyn tries to reach his lips, and Loki pulls away, laughing under his breath at her attempt. When he returns, Sigyn understands that she has no control over this encounter, and she focuses on the numbing tingle of her fingers and toes.

Loki's breath is sweet, intoxicating. He brushes her lips with his a few times before finally pushing them into a kiss. Sigyn returns it fervently. Her body arches toward him, but his touch is still tender, not forceful, and he drinks in the taste of her. Their kissing is the only sensation Loki wants. He may appear fully healed, but his body is weak, and the peace that washed over him in the fortress contains his initial desire to enter her; the only exception is the small bit of tongue that they trade back and forth softly. Sigyn occasionally moans into him from pleasure.

He pulls her backward with him, and they lay on the blanket below. Loki continues to kiss her through the night, running his hands up Sigyn's soft torso, keeping her hands relaxed and touching nothing. He can hardly get enough of her, focusing on the heat that builds in his head as they keep joining lips. When the last crackles of fire outside their tent die out, Sigyn is sleeping on Loki's chest, and he closes his eyes with a satisfied smile of restraint. They did not make love this night, but Loki is filled with more contentment than he has ever known.


	10. Poisoned Mind, Promise Made

Loki's mind is a complex dichotomy of lust and hatred. Tenderness and compassion. Satisfaction and revenge. As he dreams, the fires of hell ensnare his mind, forcing him to again brood about Thor and plan his vengeance. Loki no longer screams in the fire, aware that he is placed here to receive a message. This time, while Loki trudges through the river of souls and flame, the figure on the other side calls out his name.

Loki raises his head, exhausted from the constant fighting against the ghostly arms. The underworld god continues to yell out to him, until they finally are close enough to see each other clearly.

Pluto is a humongous feat of strength and size. He towers above Loki, covered in a thick, black metal armor. His head is bald but covered in tattoos of symbols. They are unrecognizable. Pluto smiles evilly at Loki, in the same manner that Loki used to do with Thor.

The beast of a god leans forward to Loki, who is still swimming to stay afloat in the Phlegethon flaming river. He opens his mouth to deliver a message, revealing a mouth with several rows of sharp teeth; there seem to be several throats as well, but Loki cannot tell if that is the light playing tricks on his eyes. Pluto's voice is booming, reverberant, and almost too loud to understand.

"Go to the Don City. There you can commune with me to assist you in taking back your crown." Loki's eyes don't leave Pluto. He nods in agreement, but is still holding his arms up from the dead souls below; Pluto gives him a single wave of his hand, sending Loki out of the flames and back into the darkness of his own mind.

Loki is ignorant to Pluto's own agenda.

...

When Loki wakes, Sigyn is still asleep on his chest. His heart is racing yet again, anxious to get moving. The tenderness he had last night is dashed away with this new order. His focus is now on seeking revenge against Thor with his ally, Pluto. Loki lifts Sigyn off his chest, careful not to wake her. He walks out of the tent in search of Freyr.

The sunlight is nearly blinding to Loki's still-healing eyes. It beats down on the village, leaving hardly anything in shadow. Loki registers the heat. It must have only been springtime on Vanaheim when he and Sigyn first arrived, as now they are in the last days of the summer's high sun. So odd to have a harvest moon this time of year, but Loki knows little of how the Vanir weather changes. He finds Freyr in council with a few other men.

"Uncle, I need to enlist your help in finding the Don City." Loki does not hesitate to get to the point. He isn't quite sure how he will reach Pluto there, but is certain he won't find the city on his own. "I have business to take care of there."

"Loki, what business could you have, if those you knew think you are dead?" Freyr sees through the ruse, knowing there is something Loki isn't saying. His eyes are tipped low as they were the night before when he asked about Sigyn. Freyr dismisses the other men present at their meeting.

"What do you care of my errand?" Loki snaps back at him, but then breathes deep in calm. He cannot alienate the only kin he has in this realm. "Uncle, I cannot leave alone the treachery of my so-called family. I have a meeting in the Don City. At this point, there is nothing more." Loki's words are not a lie. He hopes the honesty will bring Freyr to his side.

For a few minutes, Freyr contemplates what Loki could be up to. His attitude seems to be shifting in manic opposition at each meeting. Last night with the woman, he appeared to swoon at her sight, where now she is nowhere to be found and Loki is adamant about his request. "When do you need to be there?" Freyr asks him, with a touch of indifference. It is not his business, nor will he have any part in the trouble Loki is causing.

"When do we need to be where?" Sigyn has awoken and found Loki with Freyr, curious to their conversation. It didn't take her long to get from the tent to here, and already the woman assumes that she will go wherever Loki does. This fact annoys Loki. But he bites his tongue. The dark shadow of the man from last night decides that having any kind of ruse to go there with Sigyn is a better cover than just "business."

"We should make our way to the Don City, my darling," Loki is snaking the language like only he could. He touches her hand and kisses it gently, inviting her to sit with them. Loki introduces Sigyn to his uncle Freyr, giving her slight background on their history. Sigyn knows that Loki is hiding something in this friendliness, and presses more questions.

"Loki, why would you want to leave this place in the mountains? Is there something there that you need and cannot get here?" Sigyn is ignorant in her interrogation. To her, they have nowhere to go, and have no reason to seek out attention from more people who could risk their survival. Why would they ever need to leave the mountain fortress where they have everything they could need to survive here, happily?

Loki ponders her question, needing to come up with a quick lie. Sigyn would be less than pleased to learn of his true intentions. He knows she would still follow even if he told her the truth, but having her strong will to lead the pack would be a wiser choice.

"We need an official, Sigyn." Loki looks deep into her eyes, wooing her into his lie.

"Loki, what for? You haven't been awake for even a day!" Sigyn's concern is genuine. To Loki, it's more annoyance. But he is cool and much more calculated than she imagined. Loki takes her hands in his, and fakes the most dreamy face he can muster.

"Why, to marry us, my love."


	11. The Don City

The small party of travelers has been on the road four days. Loki and Freyr lead the way for Sigyn and Grid, whom Sigyn insisted accompany her for the wedding. Their departure from the mountain fortress was met by sadness and joy, for many of the women had bonded to Sigyn, but they were aware of her great love for Loki. Loki, on the other hand, anxious to get moving, had no bonds to anyone other than his uncle.

The poison that has seeped into Loki's mind since the day he announced the marriage plan is still running strong. Clouded by the greed and proposition of great power, evil courses through his veins. He has not been friendly with Sigyn in the slightest. Though Loki's words deceive all audiences, spouting love sonnets and anticipation for their wedding, his actions speak of a lust-hungry creature. This Loki is completely separate from the gentle, tall man that slept so peacefully next to Sigyn a week prior. The two have been sharing a tent during these last few nights away. As he did in one of the palace encounters, Loki places a spell on Sigyn's lips that forces her silence while he takes her each night. His forceful sex is more animalistic than affectionate. She submits to him willingly, but he often places her face down to show his dominance. Overpowering her excites him, granting Loki even more reason to press forward into battle with Pluto; feeling her tension from him, helpless to stop his advances, makes Loki feel invincible.

Despite two nights of nearly brutal lovemaking, Sigyn did not refuse him on the third. Her scalp is sore from hair pulling, her legs aching from being forced in uncomfortable positions. Sigyn is naïve and takes the intensity of these last few nights as a token of Loki's built up desires while he was healing, forcing herself to believe that there is not a more sinister truth behind it. She replays the softer encounters in her mind as they keep walking, trying hard not to focus on the pain surging through her body. Sigyn hopes that when they reach the Don City, whatever it is that has changed Loki's touch will return to what she's used to. After all, he hasn't kissed her deeply since the night they spent hours joined at the lips. Deep down, she knows there's something wrong.

...

The Don City is a shining castle of a fortress, not gray and dusty like the one in the mountains. It is a grand metropolis of villages, young and old Vanir people, some selling produce and some selling potions. Sigyn is mesmerized at the colorful way these people dress, dying their clothing with the local plant life, blending in to the surroundings. She does not miss that Loki's signature color of green is everywhere; seeing it forces her to curse herself for ever letting that old Vanir woman take it from her.

The fear that Sigyn had of Loki being recognized seems moot when they finally get settled in the city. Loki is quick to find housing, an official, friends of his mother and uncle. His sly way of getting everything he needs without a care in the world only fuels the fire within him to demand more. He counsels with Freyr often, privately, seeking out old sorcerers and protectors of the Don River water. He masks these meetings under the ruse that he is planning surprises for the ceremony with Sigyn; the Vanir have old customs that Loki remembers his mother explaining in detail. Since arriving in the city, Loki insists that he and Sigyn sleep separately until they are married on the fortnight; Sigyn does not argue, and even finds relief in knowing that her body will have time to heal from Loki's newfound ferocity.

Grid stays with Sigyn as they walk through the city. She is still teaching Sigyn complex magic, now with the aid of bright potions and old spell books that they find from the street sorcerers. There is no value of money in the Don City; ability is what gets valued above all material goods. Sigyn's skills are growing, and soon she is able to create more convincing illusions, minus the pink sheen that accompanied all of her spells in the mountains. With a long gesture of her arm and a whispered incantation, Sigyn manifests a sword in her hand; it is like the one she had in Asgard, heavy and ornate, familiar for her body to hold it again. But her magic is not yet strong enough to make the illusion tangible; when she strikes it in the air, the image disappears.

Sigyn and Grid meet many other women in the Don City, and Sigyn makes fast friends with all of them. Soon she is being rushed from place to place, trying on bright clothing, and fixing her hair in new ways. Sigyn now favors a series of twisted braids to her usual pinned coif; she prefers her face to be clean and natural but the women insist on painting her eyes and lips. After all, she is a bride in waiting, and the Vanir customs dictate that this is a time for her to find the most flattering beauty to impress her would-be husband.

Sigyn can't help but wonder if Loki even knows what she looks like anymore.

...

Loki has been busy with Freyr, keeping himself away from Sigyn and the exhausting routine of feigning emotion for her. He rebuilds a following, meeting with other Vanir sorcerers. They discuss with him the ways back into Asgard, how to communicate over vast distances, and even divulge the abundant powers of the Don River.

In Yggdrasill, the great rivers of magic can give life or take it away. Some, like the river Styx and its tributaries, lead into Hell and the world of the dead. To drink from these waters causes confusion, often leaving a person vulnerable to corruption and evil. The Lethe River specifically causes memory loss, forcing the victim to forever wander in search of who they once were. The River of Fire, Phlegethon, exists in the underworld to carry dead souls to their fate through fire, of which Loki knows all too well. But the Don River is highly protected and cherished by the people of Vanaheim, as its waters and light magic give them the gift of foresight, making it their greatest weapon against attack and turmoil.

Unfortunately for Loki, the waters of the Don River are so greatly restricted that he cannot magic his way into the sacred fountains. But he is lucky that his ruse lead him to the city for the purpose of a wedding: it is customary for the bride and groom to drink from the river on the night before they wed, to bless each other with the knowledge of how best to serve the other.

Loki raises his hands to his face in this knowledge, and grins with all his teeth for his own deception.


	12. Customs

There are two days left before the wedding of Loki and Sigyn, and the two have hardly seen each other at all since they arrived. Sigyn's new following of young girls, anxious to see her as a bride, continue to throw extravagant colored clothing her way, planning the whole event for her. Sigyn would prefer the ceremony be private and small, but it seems that Loki's reputation has spread throughout the Don City; after all, the son of Frigga was indeed the Prince of Asgard. As effect, Sigyn is to become a princess, and therefore she requires the best materials for her royal wedding.

Sigyn's final task is to find a ring for her husband, and she toils through the market with Grid at her side. She has left the other ladies in the dark for this errand; she wishes to feel the comfort of someone she can trust.

"What troubles you, my dear?" Grid notices that Sigyn looks more anxious than excited, and has been since they arrived. "Are you not finding what you're looking for?"

Sigyn returns the gaze and shakes her head. How can she explain that the lover that brought her to Vanaheim was not the same man she was due to marry? His words to her had been so cold, so empty, even though they said everything she wanted them to say. What was missing?

"I think I'm just feeling apprehensive about our future, Grid." Sigyn isn't so ignorant as to think that Loki's time away from her has been spent planning an extravagant ceremony; despite her trust of him, she is aware of his nature to seek out revenge hastily. Still, Sigyn keeps searching for a ring, not sure what will suit this new Loki best.

As she searches the silver and ornate-jeweled choices, Sigyn's mind drifts to the first night she met Loki, when he unveiled himself from the mask of Odin. He granted her mercy, and chose to keep her alive. He was cold, but forgiving, even trusting. She remembers Loki's hand taking hers, pressing it against his cheek, and letting tears of longing flow from his striking eyes. Sigyn remembers the sensation of his lips upon hers, so cold to the touch but so warm with emotion. How she wishes he would touch her as he did the night his bandages came off; Loki had told her he loved her, he had told her he was sorry. The thoughts fill Sigyn with warmth, giving her enough reassurance to keep looking until she finds the perfect band.

...

Loki is on the same errand as Sigyn, being forced to the market by his uncle. Freyr takes the opportunity with Loki to ask him about his true intentions.

"What is it really that you came to the Don City for, Loki? I know it wasn't to marry that poor girl." Freyr feels sorry for Sigyn, though he hasn't spoken with her at all since they came to the city. He has seen, however, Loki's interactions with the other sorcerers. Loki is plotting a vengeful attack on Asgard with an unknown ally, whom he is desperate to communicate with. Freyr cannot imagine that the son of his sister, Frigga, turned out so harsh and brutal over the last few weeks since his healing.

"My plans are my concern and my concern only, dear Uncle." He response is hissed back at Freyr, surprising him. "And as for Sigyn, she is to be my wife, to stand at my side, and I will do with her as I please." This added comment gives Freyr pause. He did not expect the previously gushing Loki to be so cold.

"Is that what my sister raised you to be? A husband that does not respect his spouse? A man that treats his wife as an object to be brought from place to place, not to be given honor in her home?" Freyr is playing into the grief that he knew Loki felt for Frigga back in the mountains. He sees that his questions make Loki uncomfortable. Freyr presses on: "What happened to the proclamations of love and adoration that you kept spouting on our journey here?"

Loki's hands are clamped in tight fists of frustration. Why should he have to defend himself for his uncle's pleasure? How dare he invoke his mother's name during this quarrel. Loki closes his eyes and breathes in to keep from exploding at Freyr.

"Uncle, I will honor my mother's wishes for me as a husband. I am not a monster." The words escape his lips, but his fingers might as well be crossed in deception. "Now, we are here to find Sigyn a ring, and I intend to do just that."

They search the selections, unsatisfied. After an hour, Loki decides to not use the rings he's faced with and, to show his uncle a hint of care for Sigyn, designs one himself with the last bit of thoughtfulness and love existing in his poisoned heart.

...

The night before the wedding is a celebration of the whole Don City. Loki and Sigyn are forced into separate parties, great feasts in their honor, and blessings from strangers. The halls are filled with loud music, crackling with spells and tricks to pass the time. In their respective places, both Sigyn and Loki are apprehensive about the next day.

Sigyn's gala is all women, playing games with each other and parading through the hall with Sigyn's planned wedding dress. The gown is a gauzy black, but includes a golden breastplate with green symbols to match the groom. None of the women know how Loki will be dressed, but assume that the Prince will be predictable enough. Since arriving in the Don City, he has been seen wearing the minor armor he tends to dress himself in for business.

In her hair, the women intertwine long vines with white flowers, a sample of one potential style for tomorrow. Sigyn sits and allows the women to do as they will; she closes her eyes and travels away, consulting with her own thoughts. Isn't this what she wanted? To stay with Loki? Did she not declare as much to Odin on the rock, that she would stay at his side? Loki barely knows Sigyn, so why would he make such a rash decision? She tries to relive the warmth she felt yesterday, imagining what life with Loki would be like. But who she wants is the Loki she cared for after the Chitauri attack, the Loki that squeezed her hand in affirmation. Is she so selfish as to only want Loki when he cannot act in opposition?

Sigyn can't help but wonder if this wedding is a good idea. She smiles when the girls present her with a mirror to see their work, and nods in approval.

In Loki's party, the men are drinking heavily. They are yelling and singing old songs, Loki regally sitting in the center of their celebration. This is the night he has been waiting for, anxious to see the outcome of his battle with Thor. After this night, he can engulf his senses in revenge.

He looks out over the men, thinking that they look pitiful and too easily amused by his ceremony. Freyr stands to speak:

"We of Vanaheim are here to celebrate the marriage of Loki, the son of my dear sister Frigga, to his princess Sigyn!" The men cheer; Loki only raises his head and cocks and eyebrow at her title. Freyr turns to Loki and raises a glass to him. "Loki, my dear nephew, I could not have expected to see you again after the Bifrost on Asgard was destroyed, but I am glad you fell into our hands. With us, you have allies!" The men cheer again, and Loki echoes his toast and takes a drink.

The anticipation of the night's final custom is consuming him.


	13. A Kiss Goodnight

Sigyn and Loki are both presented with goblets made of gold, heavily encrusted with native stones from Vanaheim. They are ancient. Both halls are hushed in anticipation for the ritual.

To each of them, the same instruction is given:

"Before you lies a cup of water from the Don River. This great magic is meant to bless you in your marriage, uniting you in purpose, and revealing your greatest obstacles. You must use this as a tool to grow in love. You must learn from what is revealed to you. No one can tell you what you will see, and you are bound to the secret of your own vision. Do you understand?"

Sigyn: "Yes." She hopes that taking a drink of the water will show her the way into Loki's heart. Loki rules her thoughts.

Loki: "Yes." He hopes that taking a drink of the water will show him how to win his crown. Sigyn is not on his mind.

They are both handed the goblet and the rooms start surging with incantations. The women are joining hands, sitting in a circle around Sigyn. In Loki's room, the men are standing, joined in arms, surrounding the groom. Both circles are facing the outside walls, backs to the subject.

..

Sigyn takes a drink of the water and is first struck by its bitterness. She is filled with heat after every swallow. Sigyn finishes the goblet and places it on the floor in front of her. Suddenly the room is spinning, and she feels thrown back in her chair. Her eyes squeeze shut tightly, yet all she can see is bright white light.

At first, she sees Loki, raising his head to her. He is in full formal attire, golden horns and all. But he smiles when he sees her, genuinely. This Loki is not the one she's known in the last few weeks, but the one she once had in her arms. She is then standing next to him, and he has a fire within his eyes, initially a shine that then explodes into real flames. Sigyn feels the heat around her. What is that? The fire walks towards her, animated as though it is really a body covered in flame. She can hear her own voice calling out for Loki, not in search, but out for help. She hears him calling back to her with concern and pain. She sees a flash of red, then darkness. Black. It consumes her for over a minute. Sigyn is not sure if this is the end of her vision, until she hears the coos of an infant child. She still sees nothing but darkness, and she opens her eyes in finality. The room is unchanged, the people still chanting. She senses tears on her face; the vision must have forced her to cry in the heat. Her mind is racing with thoughts of possibility; what could it mean? She taps the goblet to signal her awakening, only seeing the faces of women in the hall clapping at the conclusion.

Then where did the baby's cry come from?

...

Loki takes the goblet in his hands and drinks greedily. Even he doesn't like the overly sweet taste of the liquid, which sends cold shivers down his spine as it goes down. He keeps it in his hands while closing his eyes, sensing that he is being lifted up out of his chair. A bright light dominates his vision.

Loki sees Pluto, smiling with all his rows of teeth, presenting an army of dead souls behind him. Loki is at the front, leading them into the golden hall of Asgard. Thor appears, all of Asgard behind him. He hears the sounds of battle, the cries of wounded soldiers, and his own cackling laugh over it all. Commanding the army of Pluto, Loki defeats Thor, and stands over his brother's broken body. Loki sees a vision of himself grinning in victory.

This is enough for Loki, and he is ready to wake at the confirmation. Suddenly he feels thrown back in his chair, no longer floating above. Emerging from nowhere, he too is presented with the wall of fire, moving away from him. What is that? Can it really be walking in the form of a being? Loki can't see anything but the flames, and feels nothing but the heat. Then he hears Sigyn screaming, calling out for him with straining breath. She is getting weaker. Loki is calling back to her, unmoving, but bellowing out in pain. He hears a final, long scream from her, and his vision is ended with an emptiness of red where Sigyn saw nothing but black.

Loki is stunned by the silence. He opens his eyes to see the men staring back at him. He has dropped the goblet. Loki's face is drenched in tears and sweat. He can't stop crying. The poison that seeped in every crevice of his mind has mostly dissipated, cured in the magic of the Don River water, and all he can think about now is finding Sigyn, to protect her from whatever fate made her scream in such a way that it caused his whole body to wretch.

...

Loki is still hyperventilating, crying, and holding his hand up to his mouth to keep from loudly sobbing, when Freyr walks to him in the chair. He looks Loki in the face and asks him:

"Did you learn something?"

Loki nods fervently.

"Do you feel true to your bride?"

Loki considers the question. Is the vision a sign that marrying Sigyn will lead to her death? Or does it mean he will have to invoke his frost giant heritage to keep the flames at bay?

He looks Freyr in the eyes and nods yes again.

"Good. There is one more custom we want to share with you."

..

Sigyn wipes the tears from her face and smiles in celebration with the rest of the women. Grid walks to her and asks:

"Did you learn something?"

"Yes." Sigyn isn't sure what she learned, but knows that she will find out sooner or later, and vows to always keep what she saw near her heart.

"Do you feel true to your groom?"

"Yes." Sigyn will stay by Loki's side, even if the flames come to take her someday. This is her promise, and she intends to keep it.

"Good. We have one more surprise for you, Sigyn!" Grid and the rest of the women are clapping their hands in excitement. One of the older women stands behind Sigyn and places a blindfold over her face. She has to trust the women now as they take her hand and lead out to the hall. She can hear nothing but the click of her shoes on the ground and the endless giggling of young girls behind her. Wherever they are going, it is taking a long time to get there.

They are met by a group of men, leading Loki in similar fashion. They are both so much taller than their companions, the scene is almost humorous. But while Loki is steady in his walking, his head is still hanging. He cannot stop the tears. Both crowds stop as Freyr stands between in announcement:

"This final custom of the Vanir is new, started by Frigga herself when she wed Odin the Allfather. We bring the bride and groom together without sight, to witness their final kiss before being joined in marriage." All the Vanir people are cheering, and Loki's head finally raises at this news. Sigyn smiles, hoping that meeting his lips again will reveal which Loki she is marrying.

Freyr takes Loki's hand and Sigyn's, and he whispers into her ear:

"Take this young man well, dear. I believe he needs you." He joins their hands together.

Fumbling without vision, Loki takes her hand and brings it to his face. She immediately notices how wet it is with tears, still flowing. His cheek is convulsing in sobs. What could he have seen?

Sigyn mimics the movement to her own cheek. He trails his hand to her ear, this time giving her earlobe their three-squeeze signal. At this gesture, Loki pulls her in. His lips meet hers and he groans in affirmation. Loki breathes hard into her. Sigyn sheds a tear of relief to feel her true lover.

The women are crying in happiness, and the men are clapping. Freyr feels certain that Loki learned what he needed to.


	14. A Divine Wedding

Sigyn takes the flowers out of her hair and settles into her bed. She washes her hands, and removes the party dress she wore in favor of the soft robe for sleeping. She is still warm from the last kiss with Loki, exuberant to have felt the man that she once knew so well. It is not certain that he will be there still to greet her tomorrow, but she has hope, and a promise to keep her faithful. The bit of doubt that slipped into Sigyn's mind earlier in the night has passed, leaving her now with only a feeling of assurance that she's making the right choice. Sigyn tries to fall asleep, but the lasting sensation of his soft lips upon hers keep her mind racing until she can no longer keep her eyes open.

..

Loki returns to his lonely room, still reeling from the vision. At least the tears have stopped, the shock and worry of his mind wearing off. The Don River water heals what scars still plague Loki's skin, and for a while, the need to seek revenge against Asgard fades completely. The impression of Sigyn's sweet lips acts as additional balm to his concern. Loki opens his eyes and breathes deeply in preparation for the next day. He smiles when recalling the plans he made for Sigyn tomorrow, thankful that his clouded mind still cared enough for her to make sweet gestures, even if they were initially done to impress Freyr. Loki's eyes fall on the cape sitting in the corner, and he has one last idea for the morning.

When Loki sleeps this night, Pluto cannot reach him through the Don River magic still coursing in his veins.

…

The wedding of Loki and Sigyn is well underway before either of them wake. To honor Frigga, Freyr is overseeing all of the details with Grid, making the grandest spectacle they can muster. A small mountain ceremony simply would not do for their status; exiled or not, Loki is the Prince of Asgard, the adopted son of the queen, and she would not have seen him quietly wed to a servant girl with no audience. It is a pity that they cannot replicate the grand halls of Asgard's palace, where Frigga surely would have created a legendary celebration, but the high court of Vanaheim will have to do.

The court hall is decorated with gold fabric and white flowers. A great spell has been placed on the ceiling, revealing sunlight through the structural beams. The deep blue sky is again almost purple, as it was the day Loki and Sigyn came to the mountain fortress. Men and women are teeming through the hall setting up chairs for the audience, leaving a wide aisle for Sigyn to walk through. A set of stairs is constructed at the front of the hall for the groom and his uncle to stand and wait.

A flurry of young women burst into Sigyn's room, waking her up and rushing the bride to wash. She is thoroughly groomed, the women almost distracted as they brush through her hair and chat with one another. An eager young girl who keeps adjusting how it hangs on a chair, making no creases, brings in her dress. Another woman takes Sigyn's hands, buffs her fingernails and coats them in a clear paint that has a touch of green. Her toes are given the same treatment. The shoes that the women have chosen for her are similar to the ones that Loki dressed her in with illusion; golden heeled shoes that make her a full two inches taller. Sigyn finds the whole ordeal annoyingly uncomfortable, despite the last two weeks of practice being dressed up.

When all is said and done, Sigyn stands fully made up for her wedding. The black dress falls behind her feet in a trail of fabric two feet long. The gold sash that runs off her shoulder gives her a more curvaceous shape. The breastplate squeezes her lungs but forces her to stand up straight, shining sprites of green around the room when the light catches it. Her hair is half-up in the intricate crown of twisted braids and flowers they tested on her the night before; the remaining locks curl in spirals behind her shoulders. Her eyes are painted in gold and black, accentuating the wing-like shape that they carry naturally. Sigyn takes the ring she chose for Loki and hands it to Grid, leaving the band in the old woman's care. Most of the girls then scatter to sit in the court hall, leaving Sigyn to stumble her way with Grid at her side.

They approach the hall after receiving the cue from a young man at the entrance. Sigyn is nervous, and fidgets with her fingers while walking. She is not sure who is going to be there to meet her at the altar, though she hopes and prays to Frigga's spirit that it is the Loki she met in her chamber. Entering the court, everyone stands to see Sigyn. The sheer number of people present overwhelms her; many are standing against the walls, no seats remaining for them. The sky beats down on the guests, then on Sigyn, who is now sprinkling the room with the illusion of dancing green fairies reflecting off her.

Loki sees Sigyn walking down the aisle towards him, and he forces himself to stand up even straighter, relaxing his lips so they do not rest in their usual pursed shape. He is dressed in his full royal attire, conjured by his own magic, including a perfect replica of his golden horns. His pants are black, tight, finished with his signature black boots and gold buckles. Everything else is green and gold; scales on the golden crisscross armor cover his chest and arms, revealing bright green fabric that peeks through each open hole. The gold crescent above his heart shines bright in the beaming sun. Even his cape blows in the wind that seeps in. The armor makes him appear more adult, stronger, and even less sinister than his usual dark minor armor getup.

He cannot help but smile to see Sigyn, dressed up more than he has ever seen. Her hair forms a crown of its own, Loki's princess indeed, complimenting her sharp features. Sigyn's eyes stand out and are striking; the paint makes her face look cleaner and less ruddy from too much time in the sun. Is she taller? Loki can't tell from this angle, but she appears regal herself; clad in the perfect shades to compliment him, she is his ideal match.

Sigyn doesn't look Loki in the eyes until arriving at the staircase with him. Even with her tall shoes, she has to look upward to match his gaze, and smiles to see a softened Loki looking back at her. She has not yet lost him. Sigyn takes the opportunity to look him up and down, admiring the armor up close. She reaches out and touches it, knowing that it can't be real; the horns are a dead giveaway that Loki has conjured yet another grand illusion for the occasion. But when her hand crests his shoulder to the cape, Loki smiles at her, and she notices the smallest flaws still present on the fabric. This is his real cape; she didn't lose it after all, it had simply been returned to him. He takes her right hand in his, her eyes still wide with this surprise, and together they face the official to signal that it is ready to begin.

The vows the official asks them to take are simple, understated; it is assumed that whatever vows they should make to one another are private and conditional on the visions they saw the night before. The ceremony overall is short, without fluff or long speeches from anyone. Sigyn admits that she isn't really listening, instead staring at Loki, and admiring him as she has always done. Could it be that the scar between his eyes has even disappeared since she last saw him? Is he taller today, or is it an illusion created by the towering horns? Sigyn remembers cleaning his real helmet in Frigga's chambers the day after knocking it over, polishing every inch. Their size and sinister appearance remind her of something else, and a shockwave is sent through her body.

Loki and Sigyn repeat the simple vows given to them by the official, and are now faced with exchanging rings with one another. Sigyn presents her ring to Loki first. He holds out his left hand to her, his slender fingers trembling; even Loki feels some anxiety on this day. Grid gives the ring to Sigyn, and she presents it to Loki. The band is solid gold, with three square green stones atop it. The ring is simple and uncomplicated, meant to not be a bother to Loki in battle. Before she slides it on his finger, she rolls the band upward at him so he can read the black inscription printed inside: "Thank You." The first real words Sigyn spoke to him, echoed forever on his wedding band, to remind him that she will always be indebted to him and, therefore, will always be faithful to his honor.

He is touched by this gesture, and holds his hand out proudly before him, happy with how the ring looks. It doesn't feel unnatural, despite his never wearing a ring before. Loki smirks at Sigyn, who is standing with a slight puff to her beautiful eyes due to tears, and takes her left hand. Freyr hands him the ring made for Sigyn. Loki keeps his eyes on hers as he places the ring on her finger, being gentle not to force it too harshly. When it is in place, Sigyn looks down. Her band is also gold, but simple it is not. Sigyn's ring is a long, gold snake, twisting twice to form a band. The tail points downward towards her knuckle, while the head points upward off her hand. The eyes are the same green stone used in Loki's ring. The symbolism is not lost on Sigyn, who of course defeated the great serpent to save Loki's life, earning her the title Goddess of Fidelity from Odin the Allfather. She smiles, knowing that Loki was deliberate in this choice, and did not settle for a street vendor's options.

They are declared married by the official, and the whole court hall erupts in loud clapping and celebratory snapping spells. Loki reaches forward, taking Sigyn's face in his strong right hand, pulling her in for the first kiss. It is similar to the kiss he gave her the night before, soft and tender, but Sigyn returns the kiss with more intensity. She opens her mouth slightly, granting him purchase to exchange a slide of their tongues. Loki follows her lead. Their kiss lasts for what feels like an eternity, the whole hall evaporating around them. When they pull away, they see that only seconds have passed, and the two are being beckoned to come out and greet the city. Loki proudly takes Sigyn's hand and leads her out of the court hall as his wife.

And so it came to pass, that the Goddess of Fidelity and the God of Mischief were wed happily in Vanaheim.


	15. Unbridled Lovers

The festivities after the ceremony last well into the moonrise. Loki and Sigyn greet the guests, sitting to watch the Don City erupt in dance and music. They do not join in, spending the time instead with their hands clasped together, squeezing in secret conversations. Every so often, Sigyn turns to find Loki's eyes staring at her, glistening in the surrounding firelight, reflecting his desire. She is awestruck by his newfound admiration for her, and for a moment Sigyn lets herself dream that she could be happy with Loki here in Vanaheim, bearing his children, and never looking back at her old home. The uncertainty of their future is of no concern to her, lost in Loki's hauntingly beautiful green eyes.

Loki is mesmerized by Sigyn's face. She looks at him, coyly smiling with every stolen glance. The sensation of her hand in his, so soft and long, massaging his palm with her fingertips, sends shivers up his spine. With no more revenge clouding his thoughts, Loki can think of little else than what lies in front of him.

As the festivities die down, Freyr and Grid approach the couple's table, and dismiss the two to their joint chamber. Secluded from the rest of the court, their room is expansive and tall. The ceiling is vaulted at a curve. A few windows to the sky shine bright moonlight on their marriage bed, which is dressed in shiny black sheets. It beckons to them. Loki and Sigyn give kisses to Freyr and Grid in thanks. They all wave goodnight as the chamber door shuts.

Loki wastes no time, leaning in to kiss Sigyn, holding her back with one arm. The other is at her face to pull her in. She gives in to him, clutching his shoulders, grasping the top of his cape for balance. After a few minutes of the passionate exchange, Sigyn pulls away and looks him in the eye.

"I have something to show you," she says, backing away slightly. Loki stands straight, hands behind his back, watching and waiting for her cue. Sigyn smiles at him mischievously, and laughs as she holds both hands before her. She then spreads them apart in a swift motion. The armor Loki wears disappears almost completely; his helmet dissolves into thin air, the golden breastplate does the same, even his boots fade away. The only part that remains, the very real green cape on his shoulders, falls to the floor at his feet. Loki laughs at the trick; it seems Sigyn is still not able to conjure a tangible illusion, but she is able to eliminate one. He stands exposed before her, holding his hands out at his sides, inviting her back to him.

Sigyn's dress is not an illusion, and so Loki removes each piece of it with care. The golden sash from her shoulder is lifted gently, falling on the floor by his cape. He pulls the strings at the side of her breastplate one by one, undoing the corseted security, nibbling on Sigyn's neck in the process. The long black gown, hanging off of Sigyn's slender figure as a simple and shapeless chemise, adds mystery to what lies beneath. He knows well what treasures Sigyn possesses on her body, but still, Loki decides not to take it off her.

Sigyn turns to face Loki, and he stares into her eyes. She leans in to kiss him again, but is met with his flattened palm instead.

"Wait here, I have something to show you." Loki repeats the same inflection that she had earlier, laughing. Sigyn is puzzled. But she waits patiently as she watches him walk to the bedside, where a jug of water sits. He tears off a piece of cloth from the bed sheets, giving little care to whoever owns the set. He walks back to Sigyn with mindful purpose.

As she did for his wounds on their first night of intimacy, Loki saturates the bit of cloth and holds it in his hands before Sigyn.

"Close your eyes," he tells her, and she obeys without question. She feels him laying long strokes of the cloth against her skin, wiping away the layers of black and gold paint that the girls were too eager to plaster on Sigyn's eyes. She can feel Loki's cool breath on her wet skin, studying her every wrinkle and flaw until it is wiped clean. When Loki finishes the long ritual, Sigyn opens her eyes.

"Ah, there you are, Sigyn. My sweet princess." Loki and Sigyn both laugh at the ridiculous title the Vanir people have given her. She doesn't feel like royalty, nor is Loki's hand in marriage any sort of guarantee. But Sigyn is happy to call herself his, especially in this moment, knowing that Loki also prefers her natural face. Sigyn finishes the undressing by backing out the flower crown atop her head, letting the curled strands fall sensually down her back.

Loki picks Sigyn up and carries her to the bed, her black dress creating a curtain around his legs. He lays her down gently, keeping her legs propped up. He meets her gaze while lying down beside her, letting his arm rest beneath his side and the other on Sigyn's knee.

She can no longer wait to feel his touch, and pulls him in to kiss her. As he does, the hand that rests on her knee starts to gather the fabric of her dress upward. Sigyn is distracted by his taste, his breath, and commanding lips. She coos quietly with each new movement; Loki keeps raising her dress until he is granted purchase to her bare leg. He trails his fingertips up her thigh, sensing her small fidgets to get closer and closer to his hand. He digs his fingernails into her soft flesh, which gives in a submitting fashion to his pressure. The kissing gets more intense, with faster exchanges from both of them.

Loki's hand makes a final journey to Sigyn's aching entrance. She bites his lip in response, moaning and causing Loki's blood to boil. She stops kissing him to open her mouth in a wide gasp. He nibbles at her neck, then devouring in deep bites, feeling the need to keep his lips on her skin.

When she has climaxed in ecstasy, she begs Loki to take her. His still wet hand is glistening with her slick; meeting gaze with Sigyn and then closing his eyes, Loki takes a single, long lick with his snakelike tongue up his fingers, showing Sigyn his pleasure at her sweet taste.

After a long night of passionate lovemaking, no longer the brutal attacks Sigyn endured from a lust hungry monster of a man, the two fall asleep in each other's arms. They are both content and satisfied with their decision, confident that the fire they saw was somehow a symbol for their unbridled passion.

Their last peaceful night of sleep.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

I apologize for the stunted love scene, it is heavily censored (meaning, 80% of it was removed to keep the rating reasonable). Someday I will send the uncensored version of both stories to my readers. Hope you enjoy! Love to all! Feedback leads to greater storytelling! :)


	16. Plans to be Made

When the lovers wake, the sky is marred with grey clouds. The attitude within their bedroom feels just as spoiled; there is a raucous of people in the halls, cleaning up from last night's celebration. Loki squeezes Sigyn to his chest, not wanting to leave their cozy chamber. But unfortunately, the court cleaning woman does not share their sentiment, and bursts into the room with little warning. The two are ushered out of the room to go back home, taking only a few minutes to gather the cape and the last remaining bits of their belongings before leaving. They separate only for a short while, departing to their respective rooms in the court to get the rest of their clothes. It seems the novelty of royalty in the high court has worn off, not even a day following their wedding. In Vanaheim, weddings are an occasion that should be celebrated by others first, then by the couple for the rest of their lives; there is no reason for festivity today after such an extravagant, citywide ceremony.

Loki and Sigyn are still surprised by the rude awakening as they walk through the city streets. They try to distract themselves from their disappointing morning by clutching each others' hands. Their palms stick together in sweat. The couple strolls, even shuffles over the long journey through the city to the far north end, where Loki has been staying in the two weeks prior to their wedding.

The tent itself is larger than those found in the mountain fortress; Sigyn has no doubt that Loki traded secrets or magic to acquire it. It is a single, large room, furnished with only two chairs and a long bed. 'At least it is wider than a single-person cot,' Sigyn thinks, and spreads out Loki's cape as a spread across the mattress. She sits down, admiring her modest home.

"It is small, but more than enough for us," she says, smiling at Loki's tall form in the corner. He takes the two steps necessary to reach her and leans over for a kiss. Loki's thumb moves gently over her chin, and his eye catches one of the green stones on his ring flicking light around the tent. She is his wife. The thought sends a shock up Loki's spine, both in satisfaction and uncertainty for their future. Sigyn does not know that Loki has no intention to stay in this meager living space for much longer, and he does not yet know if there will ever be a proper time to tell her so.

Amidst the silence, a loud knock comes from the tent's entrance. One of the Don City sorcerers, a sinister looking man who wears deep purple and black, looms in the doorway. He is not as tall as Loki, but his eyes are filled with a darkness of spirit that echoes in the way his head slumps forward. The man holds out his hand, beckoning Loki to follow.

Loki has been so consumed with bliss and Sigyn's body that he has forgotten about the plans he already put in place to invade Asgard. Before his poisoned mind was cleared with the Don River water, Loki's intention was to abandon Sigyn in this realm and immediately move forward with Pluto's army on the golden front. Could it be the vision of fire he saw was the wrath of Asgard upon his wife? Would it be safer to have her hand at his side, destined to rule Asgard as his queen? Loki isn't certain he could bear the burden of guilt if Asgard's allies targeted Sigyn, even if he was victorious at acquiring the throne, so he considers the options. Loki decides to go with the sorcerer, telling Sigyn to stay at the tent, and the two men walk out.

"You didn't come to meet with us as planned. It is too late to be a coward now for the sake of a woman." The sorcerer's words are harsh, cold. Enough to make Loki's blood boil with rage at the assumption. Loki pins the man up against a wall in the street, pushing his forearm into the sorcerer's throat.

"Do not assume you know my plans, you insufferable idiot. When I am King of Asgard, I will not be so quick to forgive such insolence." Loki's teeth are barred in rage at the man, who is cowering beneath his tall figure. Even after days of tenderness, the dark shadow of greed and power seeps from his pores. Loki releases the pressure on his arm and keeps walking, strutting with side-to-side sway at each step. He carries himself taller than the other men do, still ever watchful and aware of eyes that fall upon him, careful not to make mistakes that could cost him fearful surrender from potential followers.

The two men approach a crack in the fortress wall, a dark and deep black crevice in the stone. Loki gestures his right hand before it, revealing a hidden door. Behind it is a long hallway lit with candles on the walls, leading down to a small room already filled with more ominous characters. They all remain nameless and loyal to Loki's command, prepared to follow him into battle, anxious to hear what his vision told him about the war.

"What did you learn, my Lord?" A faceless young man asks from the back of the room, giving voice to everyone's question. Loki's eyes shift, raising one eyebrow and then another, as he studies the faces in the room. He cannot be too careful; Loki must not reveal what he's learned to anyone not already devoted and sworn to the cause.

"My brethren," Loki glides off his tongue, pausing to make sure all eyes are on him, "I saw a victorious field of battle, where we were united in cause and spirit with the underworld, successful in defeating the brutal and senseless throne of Asgard!" His revelation is met with cheers from the men, and clinks from glasses of strong liquor. Loki smiles to see this scene, grinning ever widely, cackling under his breath at the opportunity before him.

"Have we heard from Pluto's army? Do we know when to attack?" The same man in the corner is inquiring about details, still not stepping into the light. While some of the men are still drunkenly talking, others fall silent and wait for command.

"We attack in two day's time. I will find Pluto and his army, and will prepare them for all we have discussed. We move to victory!" The plan is falling into place. In just two weeks, Loki has gathered an army of magicians and undead soldiers, ready to follow him into battle. Their collective dark magic fills the room, dimming the already low candlelight, sending a cold rush of air down the invisible hallway.

A shadow is cast over Loki's face, and the large smile he had a few moments before has transformed into a sinister and ugly show of his clenched teeth. He is nearly dripping with greed. The demand within him to satisfy vengeance is surfacing with ever growing vigor. Loki's mind is being poisoned again with every passing second, infiltrated by the spirit of darkness that he carried with him into this space. His deep green eyes shine with inspiration and excitement. The only thought that comes into his mind now is the vision of Thor, fallen and bleeding at his feet, defeated.

Sigyn sits alone in the small tent, picking seeds off the nabbing fabric of the cape.

She waits for a man who cannot return.


	17. For the Sake of a Promise

Freyr knocks on the entryway to Sigyn's lonely tent, deep into the night. She stands, groggily swaying this way and that as she makes her way to answer. Loki still has not returned from the meeting he left for that morning; Sigyn was just able to doze into sleep when she heard the sound. Freyr's eyes are honest, echoing the same sort of care that Frigga's once did, and he looks Sigyn in the face with pity.

At first, he is apprehensive to say anything at all, well aware of the wrath Loki is capable of for sneaking into one of his private meetings. But his sense of chivalry overpowers his own selfish preservation.

"Sigyn, you should know that Loki plans to invade your home, to seek vengeance against his brother and father." Freyr says the words quickly and curtly, hoping that Sigyn will hear them even in her tired state. Her response is to stand up straight, addressing Freyr's concerns.

"And what does he wish for me to do?"

Freyr did not expect this answer. He almost wished that she would break down in tears, begging to not be bound to Loki in marriage, to be free of his tricks. But Sigyn instead is offering herself to his cause, despite the look of apprehension and fear on her face. Sigyn's lips quiver slightly, either from the cold night air or her emotions. Her eyes shine, already wet with tears from the day, but not flowing.

"I do not know, Sigyn. I only know he plans to leave this place the day after tomorrow. What this will mean for your fate, or for ours, is yet to come." Freyr finally accepts the fact that Loki could very well be seeking more than just Asgard's domination, as his presence on Vanaheim caused such a stir already. Having lived in peace for many generations without a ruler, the thought of his own nephew trying to conquer Vanaheim seemed preposterous at first. Now, Freyr is not so certain that nepotism would guarantee his safety. "Loki is dangerous, Sigyn. I had hoped that he would learn something, and be true to you as his wife. But it appears he has brought you here under a ruse."

Sigyn contemplates what Freyr is suggesting. The Loki that brought her to the Don City was not the man she had tended to in battle, or even in death. His spirit had been altered, fluctuating. Despite revenge and power being part of Loki's true nature, she had been confident that his bond with her was strong enough to surpass even his most basic instinct to always seek out the last word. But Sigyn remembers the promise she recited to Grid the night before the wedding: that she had planned to be faithful and true to Loki's honor, even if it eventually led to her death; she buries her fear and doubt, looking Freyr in the eyes.

"I am aware of who my husband is. And I intend to stand by his side." She is showing the same insolence that she once did to Odin the Allfather, before she was sent to the dungeons in Asgard. She is careful, but not careful enough, oozing her loyalty despite the dangers before her. Freyr shakes his head at her, disappointed at the alliance, even her naivety. He turns away from the tent, vanishing into the night with his magic.

Sigyn returns to her bed, wraps herself in Loki's cape, and falls asleep. This night, she is not afraid. She will not shed tears for the fate presented to her. Sigyn only hopes that if they are able to win over Asgard, the bond they shared will survive the carnage.

...

Loki does not return until the following morning, his mind teeming with ideas and plans finalized with Pluto and his army. The previous day, after the meeting with the town sorcerers, Loki was faced with another burning vision from Pluto. The only bargain the underworld god wanted in return for his armies was freedom for the remaining imprisoned Titans of Yggdrasil; Loki thought the request was odd, but achievable as the King of Asgard. As soon as Thor and Odin fall, Loki's allegiance to Pluto will be complete, and the Titans can be set loose upon the realms to defeat as they would see fit. After all, Loki's concern is not for the remaining realms, but only for his own; a narrow mindset that would otherwise not spare the beauty in Vanaheim.

He walks into the tent to find Sigyn already sitting up on the bed, awake and ready for another day. She does not smile at his return, which is fitting, but he greets her happily. The dark cloud over his mind has set him forth to battle, but he still desires to have her at his side as a worthy companion. Without the weeks of poison in Pluto's midst like before, a small bit of Loki's love for Sigyn dominates his interaction with her.

"Good morning, Sigyn. I trust you slept well?" Loki asks her with a cock of his neck, looking downward at her, his hands behind his back as he strolls in. Loki's grace doesn't falter. His eyebrow is raised to receive an answer, waiting to hear her voice. She is truly beautiful in the dim morning light, yellow streaks shining on her face as the doorway cloth sways in the wind. Sigyn returns his gaze with pursed lips and wide eyes.

"I did, thank you. I am ready for a new day." Her disappointment that Loki was nowhere to be found yesterday is not hidden. Loki immediately knows that she is hiding something. Sigyn stands and fixes the bed to look tidy, folding his cape and placing it in a neat square on the edge of the bed. Loki can see a dark spot where Sigyn, undoubtedly, shed tears waiting for him. The smallest pang of guilt washes over Loki's body, if only for a moment.

Loki walks and takes Sigyn's hands in his. "I am sorry, Sigyn, that I did not return as I said I would. But I'm giving you a chance to have what you've always wanted." His promise is matter-of-fact, not laced with any hint of doubt. She looks up to his eyes, seeing an odd combination of sincerity and deception. The man she loves is standing before her, but he's still only a shell of whom she once knew.

Sigyn doesn't stand close to Loki; in fact, she backs away from his chest, giving him a serious stare. Her voice is monotone, quiet, and almost heavily articulated. She wants him to hear every word clearly. "Loki, I do know of what you seek. And, I will go with you. I will stand by your side as your queen, should you succeed. As I promised." Loki smiles at her agreement, and moves in to kiss her.

Sigyn turns her face in displeasure, granting him access only to her cold, clammy cheek. Her blood boils at the thought that Loki can manipulate her so easily, even when he didn't deliver the news of his plan firsthand. Sigyn considers, for a moment, showing vulnerability and even weakness by sharing with him her vision. Her dark eyes are to the floor. She cannot look at him. In a swift, surprise movement of her rage and need to communicate without words, Sigyn's right hand slaps Loki hard across the face.

"I love you, Loki. But do not mistake my loyalty for approval." She lets go of his other hand and walks outside the tent, intent on saying a final goodbye to Grid before acting as companion to the snake. Loki only watches as she leaves, feeling hot pain on his cheek, the same one she usually touches with such care.


	18. Uneasy Greeting

This time, it is Sigyn who disappears for the remainder of the day, spending the last hours with Grid and her closest friends from the Don City. She does not share their mission, nor does she want to give concern to her loved ones. Instead, Sigyn convinces them that she and Loki intend to build a new city of the mountain fortress, after seeking out new companions on the south end of the realm. Grid weeps at the prospect of losing her, as they have grown as close as family. The young women who befriended Sigyn are equally dismayed at her quick exit. To please them, Sigyn agrees to be made over one last time.

When she returns to her tent with Loki the following morning, she is a changed woman. Her already dark chocolate hair has been stained a bluish black, even darker than Loki's natural color. She is clad in a golden breastplate, formed perfectly to her shape, and green cape of her own. Her belly is exposed, showing the strong muscles she's built over years of exercise and hard work in the palace. Her skirt is colored in a similar gold shimmer fabric that flows easily as she walks. Even her shoes reflect the same green as the cape. Upon her head is an angular gold helmet, with peaks on each side, hiding her ears. The headpiece appears heavy, but is deceiving as such. Her eyes are painted in black and gold, making her look angry and determined. Though she looks like a warrior ready for battle, Sigyn's face reflects her inner turmoil at the bed she's made for herself. Her new attire reflects the darkness of disappointment and servitude that has filled her chest.

Loki is taken aback by her appearance, but she says nothing to him. She packs the few belongings that she wishes to bring along, and tucks it on the back of the horse he brought for her. She tenderly wraps Loki's folded cape in a leather belt and attaches it underneath her small pack. 'It truly is the last shred of the Loki I love," she thinks to herself. 'Or, at least, did love.' Sigyn swears to herself that she will not shed another tear of grief over the man she married, who would put her in harms way for the sake of a crown. She will be faithful to Loki, whatever form he is, but Sigyn is aware that it was her will and her will alone that sealed her fate.

Loki and six of the Don City sorcerers lead the way out to the forest, with Sigyn in tow at the back. Loki feels a small amount of guilt for her as he turns to watch her, only meeting an apathetic look on her face and no eye contact. But the feeling is quickly overpowered by the prospect of winning over Asgard. His plan is unfolding according to what was discussed with the allies in Vanaheim, and they only have to meet with Pluto's army to discuss the final elements of battle.

Word from the watchers is that Thor has returned to Asgard for only a short while. Their window of opportunity is small; while Pluto's plan was to help destroy Thor, his armies will only be useful for a single day, after which they must return to the underworld. Loki is anxious to get started, knowing that they cannot be victorious if Thor sets upon them in even the slightest weakness. The sorcerers make camp outside of a secluded cave in the mountains, almost a full day's ride from the Don City, no doubt the portal back to Asgard. Loki dismounts his horse and stands to wait.

"This is the place," Loki says, signaling to the other sorcerers and Sigyn that they have plans to meet Pluto in this spot. They all come down and start to make camp. The pink and grey moons above shine heavily upon Loki's face, which is smooth as silk in the light, showing the power of the Don River magic on his scars. His eyes close as he takes a deep breath of the cool mountain air. Loki is disrupted by the sound of crunching leaves behind him, and he turns his head quickly like a bird to see who beckons him.

Sigyn holds bread in her hands and offers it to Loki. "You'll need your strength," she says, with sincerity but not care. He timidly reaches out to receive it, secretly hoping that she would stay and talk with him. But she does not, and turns back to her tent setup. It seems obvious Sigyn is dismayed that they must share one again this night. Loki's eyebrows furl in angst, but he turns again to wait for Pluto's arrival.

A loud clap in the sky and red lightning startle the horses to run into the trees. Even the sorcerers are jolted by the surprise. In a flash of light, Pluto appears, just as tall and grotesque as Loki's vision foretold. His bald head is shining in the moonlight; the symbols tattooed on are snaking in movement. His smile is unsettling, with many rows of sharp teeth dripping with saliva and covered in the blood of who knows what. His armor is thicker than any that the sorcerers have prepared for; it is unclear exactly what shape Pluto's body takes beneath it. Pluto's voice, echoing a quiet laughter from surprising the party, is so deep that it shakes the rock surrounding the cave. Behind Pluto is an army of purple shadows, with faces mauled in distorted visions of screams and despair. Their forms are imperfect and undefined, as if their bodies are mists that could be swept away. Loki stands before Pluto, tall and confident, though he still must crane his neck upward to catch the giant's gaze.

"When should we begin, friend?" Loki raises one eyebrow and smiles in approval. The camp behind him is shaking with fear, save for Sigyn, who also stands tall and ready.

"Why wait?" Pluto bellows out, shaking the trees. His army is not silent; in fact, their desperate moans and cries make the scene terrifying. Loki turns his back to face the other sorcerers; some of which have fled. Only two remain, afraid of what is to come, but Loki stares at them with intimidation to not abandon the cause now. They attempt to stand straight and brave, while Loki leads Pluto and the ghostly companions into the mouth of the cave.

Just behind Loki is Pluto, who saunters from side to side while walking. Sigyn doesn't budge, only moving her neck to see each soldier pass. The giant turns his head and looks at her, smiling and squinting his red eyes down at her. His breath is loud and deep like his voice.

"Hello, Sigyn," Pluto whispers as he walks past into the cave portal. She keeps her composure, up straight and eyes open, lips pursed. The monster devours her with his eyes, salivating directly at her as the name escapes his lips.

Sigyn can feel in her heart that something is terribly wrong, even deliberate with his greeting. But the marriage promise echoes from her heart, and she follows behind the last soldiers, as the cave becomes a beacon of light.


	19. Seeing Ghosts

They walk into the Asgardian realm on the other side of a gaping cave. They are high above the water below, and can see the palace shining in the distance. It will take at least a half-day's walk to reach it, but Loki is not concerned. He is confident that when they reach the palace gates, it won't take long to defeat Asgard's army. He saw their tired and weak strategies firsthand when fighting the Chitauri; the soldiers are many, but they lack conviction and skill. Thor and Odin are the only real threat here.

Pluto says nothing during the journey. He only occasionally turns to his soldiers to beckon them forward. Even in death, the ghosts suffer with every step, bound to follow in the command of their master. Sigyn recognizes this and can't help but feel like she is one of them, tirelessly following Loki to any end, regardless of her suffering.

Asgard is completely unaware of the incoming attack, which is evident through the loud city streets that echo through the close canyon that the invaders are using. Loki's keen eyes are searching the palace walls for any kind of shield or flying soldiers; it seems since his apparent death that the kingdom has little to fear. It is a time of peace among the realms. They could not have picked a more perfect day to invade.

"Sigyn, to the front," Loki calls from up ahead. They are only about a mile away from the edge of the city. Loki is able to cloak the party, from the eyes of Heimdall and the rest of the citizens, but it is taking a fair amount of his strength to do so. His eyes meet her stoic expression. "Sigyn, you need to lead the way. We'll need you to go to the judgment hall. Your presence will surprise them all, and gather the soldiers to one place." For the first time, Loki truly does need Sigyn, but not in the way she desires. Sigyn nods at his request, and walks ahead of the group.

Sigyn has never seen the city limits of Asgard's city. The people on the outskirts are similar to the servant folk that live in the basement of the palace. She recognizes no one, and her height and strange clothing take the few that look upon her aback. Her stroll is deliberate, but not slow, as she knows time is running out for Loki.

She decides it would be safer to enter the palace through the servant's entrance on the bottom level, drawing as little attention to herself as possible. Loki can invade from the front and make a spectacle if he so wishes. Her footsteps make long echoes down the hallway of the palace. There must be some kind of evening celebration in the great hall, as there are no guards waiting at the long staircase up to the judgment hall. The last time she walked these steps, her legs ached in pleasing soreness from her last night with Loki, unaware of the punishment that awaited her at their pinnacle. Tonight, she is not afraid. She has no tears to shed for anyone. There is nothing for her to lose beyond her life.

Odin the Allfather sits at the throne, at the far end of the judgment hall. Sigyn saunters toward him with a strut, all too aware that she is unrecognizable from the servant girl that he left to perish on the rock. Odin sits up in his seat, leaning forward to get a better look at the woman walking his direction. When she reaches the foot of the stairs up to the throne, she lets one of her legs peek out of the slit in her skirt, showing off.

"Allfather, I came to pay my allegiance." Sigyn has adopted some of Loki's snakelike mannerisms in her despair. Odin tilts his head, not able to place her.

"What is your name, child?"

"Why, dear Allfather, don't you recognize me?" Sigyn is smirking at her question, happy to surprise him. Maybe she'll please Loki in the end with her deceit. The pause goes on long enough. "Oh, well, I suppose you wouldn't here, after leaving me to die." Sigyn holds her hands in front of her, and creates the image of her small bowl, the one she used to protect Loki during his punishment.

"Sigyn..." Odin says her name, having not forgotten her, but now he sits back in his throne in preparation for what must be coming to follow.

Heimdall's voice calls from behind her to stop, and Thor's loud footsteps follow. Outside of Loki's magic, Heimdall was able to cast his eye upon her as she walked through the palace. They bring with them a legion of Asgard's soldiers, so few compared to what she saw while fighting the Chitauri alongside them. But Sigyn does not stir. She is set in her place, intent on drawing as many high soldiers to the hall as possible.

Soldiers surround Sigyn, Heimdall and Thor now standing before her to protect Odin. The Allfather stands at his seat. All eyes are on her, but none dare touch her. Having seen that she has learned magic, Odin recognizes the danger she poses.

"Sigyn, where is Loki?"

She says nothing. Minutes pass in silence as they stare.

"I am here!" Loki calls from the back of the chamber, clad in his full armor and golden horns. They seem to have grown from his original helmet, reflecting the power he seeks in their malicious appearance. Behind him looms Pluto, and the two remaining sorcerers that didn't flee in Vanaheim. Even they appear to be covered in thick, silver armor and helmets.

Loki walks slowly down the hallway, taking very careful steps as the others fall behind. Sigyn doesn't turn to look at him, and keeps her eyes fixated on Odin and Thor. They both appear shocked to see him, certain that his final punishment would be the end of their quarrels.

He stops halfway to the throne, putting his arms behind his back, and smiling widely. Loki's eyes meet Thor's.

"Why, brother, didn't you miss me?"

The words are a cue. Pluto lets out a loud yell that booms off the palace walls, and behind him floods a screaming, writhing army of the undead.


	20. Victory

The battle rages on, the ghostly soldiers trampling the Asgardians and Loki's cackle of a laugh soaring above the sounds of fighting. Thor is slamming is hammer down repeatedly, trying to keep back the surges of undead. Occasionally, lightning will strike, leaving no effect on them. Sigyn steals one of the Asgard soldier's swords and fights off the men who decide she is a better adversary. The sorcerers are cowering in the back, setting off incantations of smoke for distraction, hoping they will not have to be called out to fight. One by one, the Asgardian soldiers are defeated, lying in a heap of injured bodies on the hard floors of the judgment hall. It seems a fitting place for a battle of gods, raging against one another.

Odin has taken on Pluto, who is laboriously slow due to his huge size. The two are quite a match for each other. Odin's staff gives off great streaks of energy, striking at Pluto's armor, bouncing off it like light on Sigyn's metal breastplate. Pluto is able to deflect the attacks from Odin easily, though even at his age, the old man is much faster.

Pluto lets out a loud bellow of a laugh, and swings one of his huge arms backward. He hits Odin, thrusting him across the hall and into one of the large, stone pillars. Odin slides down it, hitting the floor. Pluto walks off towards Heimdall, who meets a similar fate on the other end of the judgment hall.

"Father!" Thor calls out to him, hearing no response; more soldiers quickly set upon him. When he fights them off to make his way to Odin's crumpled and unmoving form, Loki stands before him.

"Oh, my dear brother. So nice that I would see you here this day." The two of them stare at each other, and may as well be completely alone in the room for how the rest of the soldiers leave them to a private fight. They start taking steps in a clockwise motion, moving in a circle, both of them aware that they cannot turn their back for even a moment.

"Loki, what are you doing?" Thor is desperately asking Loki of his intentions, still in shock to see him alive. How many times must he have to mourn his brother's death before he will be rid of reliving it?

"Why, I'm here to reclaim my position, Thor. The one I served in for months while you frolicked on Midgard." Loki's nose is snarled, his teeth making a wide display. The disdain he has for Thor is dripping from his lips. "I'm here to take back what you stole from me!"

"Loki, I didn't steal anything from you. It was you who imprisoned father and acted as a false king!" Thor's eyes reflect pity and strength. But they also show sadness and grief that they are fighting. Thor is trying to talk sense into Loki, but the dark one will have none of it.

"False king? Tell me, what of my rule made me a false king? I defeated the Chitauri, defended my home, ruled as Odin the Allfather, and I even killed the great titan, Thanos, with my bare hands!" Loki is enraged at the thought that he must again prove his worth. What has Thor done to deserve respect of Asgard when he chose to leave his people in favor of a woman on Earth? "I'm more of a king than you will ever be!"

"Loki, I..." Thor doesn't have a good answer for Loki's defense.

"You what? You what, Thor?!" Loki yells back at him, demanding any kind of excuse. After saving his life and avenging Frigga on Svartalfheim, how could Thor be so cold to him? How could Thor dare say that he would make a better ruler, having never done it himself?

"Tell me, Thor. Do you enjoy watching me suffer? Do you get pleasure from seeing my pain?" Loki keeps probing Thor, thinking of the image he kept seeing in his mind as he was healing, of Thor walking away from his burning body. Is it far from the truth of watching him writhe under the great serpent on the rock?

"Loki, I care for you, but I cannot sit by and watch you destroy our home for the sake of your greed!" Thor makes a move to attack Loki, to find it is only an illusion, and Loki slams something into Thor's head from behind. As Thor struggles to get up, Loki places his foot firmly on Thor's chest.

"You left me there! You left me there to die! You watched me slowly poison and burn to death on that rock face, and yet you say you care for me?" Loki picks up Odin's staff, which has fallen on the ground. He holds the firing end to Thor's face and takes a shot, missing by only inches as Thor quickly evades the attack.

"Loki, this has to stop!"

"This time it's my turn to watch you die!" Loki stops the conversation and resumes fighting, vigorously moving in to strike at Thor. Mjolnir comes flying from the other side of the hall, hitting Loki hard in the shoulder. His arm is again dislocated, but Loki fights through the pain to lift the staff. There are great streaks of light flying through the hall, some hitting Thor and knocking him down, some just missing him. Loki is getting weaker, the illusion of his outfit flickering back into the meager armor fashioned for him on Vanaheim. But he takes one final blow with the scepter, blasting off the ground to his Thor in mid air.

Thor is struck widely backward, hitting one of the pillars close to Odin. His body is broken, heavily injured, and one of his legs is bent unnaturally. Thor is barely breathing. The sounds of battle die down around Loki as he looks at the carnage laid out before him. The sorcerers in the back have been subdued and are possibly dead, face down on the hard stone surface floor. The ghostly soldiers start to dissipate, coming up close to their deadline of returning to the underworld. Pluto stands by to watch Loki's next move, walking to Thor's body, kicking his leg to evoke any life.

Thor doesn't respond. Odin's form seems equally lifeless beside him. The scene is familiar to Loki, as it is an exact replica of what he saw the night before marrying Sigyn. He stands on a field of Victory, with nothing more to stand in his way. He starts to laugh again, filling the hall with the reverberant call of success.

"We are victorious!" Loki yells out, to any companion that might still be able to hear him. But his celebration is too soon.

Loki is knocked down by a monstrous three-headed dog. The animal stands over him, all three sets of eyes focused on Loki's terrified face. The legs in the front are bowed and strong; each head shaped differently, but with no lack of sharp teeth. The smell coming from the dog is nauseating, making it hard for Loki to breathe beneath it. His head turns to the side enough to see Pluto walking towards him. Pluto's mouth is curved in a malicious smile. One of the dog's heads turns as well, and barks once at Pluto's sight. He responds by calling out what must be the creature's name, "Cerberus!" The stern call makes it obvious that none other than Loki's assumed ally controls the beast.

Loki is puzzled at this scene, and his expression says, 'why?' without uttering a word. But Pluto hears him anyway.

"You take something precious from me, and I shall take something precious of yours!" Pluto's voice vibrates even more in the cold, stone walls of the palace. Loki barely understood what Pluto said, and is still searching his mind for any clue, shutting his eyes every so often to block out the dripping saliva coming off Cerberus' faces.

What Loki sees horrifies him with memory and terror. Behind Pluto grows a wall of flame, walking out into the hall. The fire itself reaches the ceiling of the stone. The figure is carrying a sword, striding awkwardly with the long legs beneath it. It is none other than Hrinmeer, the Flame, a fire demon forged against an elf long before the legends Loki grew up with. He has been called forth from the underworld for a singular purpose. The sight of the creature makes Loki wretch with emotion and despair.

"Sigyn!"


	21. Cry for Help

She is busy fighting off the last remaining guards when she hears Loki call out her name in a long yell from the throne room. The inflection of his voice is oddly familiar, but Sigyn cannot be distracted until the guards are incapacitated. Her stolen sword is blunt and heavy, not like the fancy weapon she was once used to, but it does the job well enough. When the last guard falls, Sigyn takes a breath. She hears Loki's call to her again; this time his voice is different, as it seems interrupted with sobs and the wet sound of someone whose throat is caught.

Sigyn turns and sees red flickering light coming up the stairway to the small room that she cornered the guards in. She immediately registers strong heat, and no sooner notices that flames are walking up the steps. The figure crests the doorway and stands so tall that Sigyn cannot see all of it in a single glance. It is most definitely a creature and not a wall of fire, wielding a long, fiery sword, and a grin that appears in the same way the flicker of a fireplace can mimic a face. Sigyn's heart drops, recognizing the creature, aware of her fate.

But she will not go quietly.

Loki's call to her echoes in the walls of the room; he is continuously yelling out to her, hoping to hear her response. But Sigyn is determined to fight off The Flame, and doesn't call back to him. The sword she was using against the soldiers is starting to weigh against her shoulder, getting heavier with every upward thrust.

...

Loki is still trapped beneath Cerberus as the animal growls down at him. Pluto is enjoying the scene. He paces back and forth, not giving in to the cries Loki is making for his love.

"What is it I took from you, you horrid monster?" Loki hisses at Pluto, flinching beneath the bark of Cerberus when trying to inch away. Tears are slowly streaming down his face, and his chest is rising heavily in exhaustion. His shoulder is again twisted out of place; his body is covered in scrapes and new bruises, all from fighting with Thor for what he thought was a common cause of action.

Pluto looks Loki in the eye, saying nothing. Loki remembers Pluto's only request, 'to free the remaining imprisoned Titans of Yggdrasill.' And in that moment, Loki knows.

Pluto is the master of all the great Titans. And he killed their great leader, Thanos, brutally and publicly for all the realms to watch. Pluto never intended to be Loki's ally; he wanted the misguided fool to do his dirty work, getting rid of Thor, only to take his revenge after watching Loki suffer at the loss of his greatest asset.

Loki is hit with a sense of deep awareness, that even while being cold to Sigyn, he must have expressed to Pluto during one of their meetings that she was most precious to him. Greater than his mother, or his uncle, even his desire to rule. Pluto didn't intend to deny Loki a crown; instead, he wanted to destroy the reason Loki's still-beating heart aches in his chest.

The guilt that washes over Loki is bitter and tangible. Pluto turns away from his writhing body and walks to the end of the judgment hall. Quickly, and while Pluto is distracted, Loki thrusts Odin's staff into Cerberus' belly, killing the animal swiftly. He uses some of his strength to silence the creature so that Pluto will not turn to see. But as the animal falls on top of his legs, trapping him where he lies, Loki is painfully aware of how alone he is. The sorcerers he brought with him are dead, and in the distance he can hear the clanking sounds of Sigyn, along with her loud exclamations each time she successfully hits The Flame, fighting for her life. Loki is responsible.

He uses the last bit of magic left within him, and whispers an incantation into his hands. Loki repeats the spell over and over, not even bothering to wipe the tears off his face as he speaks. He blows across his hands, releasing a familiar red mist.

Thor stirs.

...

Sigyn is fighting with every ounce of strength she has left. Clearly, The Flame did not intend for her to fight with him this long as even he is growing tired of the swordplay. Occasionally, he will blast fire outwards at her, making singes on her skirt and hair. Sigyn is thankful that the golden breastplate she wears is not retaining the heat, or she would have to fight him naked and exposed to keep from burning. Loki's calls to her have stopped, and Sigyn cannot decide if it is comforting, or a sign that he's been killed in the other room. Was he calling out to her for help, or to warn her?

The Flame takes the second that she is contemplating as an opening to defeat her. The figure of fire charges Sigyn, trapping her in the corner of the room. He knocks the sword right out of her hands, and prepares to engulf her in flaming arms to kill her.

Sigyn only has moments to think, and mustering every last ounce of energy she has, creates the form of her old sword. She holds the illusion above her in defense, bringing up every second of anger against Loki, all the laughter with Grid, and the lessons she learned from Frigga. Sigyn closes her eyes.

The Flame meets resistance against her sword. Sigyn's magic is strong enough to protect her, even if only for a few more minutes. She realizes that this could be the end, and uses her short breaths to call out for help.

"Loki!"


	22. Inevitable Fate

Swing after swing of her sword, Sigyn fights for her life. She feels her legs burning, both in the heat and with her constant movement to evade The Flame's attacks.

"Loki! _Loki!_" Sigyn keeps calling out for his help, though she isn't certain that he is still alive to come to her aid. The sword in her hand is getting smaller, her energy fading. She is praying that she can keep the illusion tangible, or she will surely be incinerated before she can react.

...

Loki is inching his way beneath the heavy and dead Cerberus, towards Thor's now breathing body. He can hear Sigyn in the distance, calling out for him; the only comfort he brings himself is knowing that she is not yet screaming, which he knows is coming soon. Every yell of his name sends a shiver down his spine, only fueling his need to reach his brother.

"Thor..." Loki is whispering, occasionally turning back to see if Pluto has turned from the edge of the hall. "Thor, please get up."

Thor rises up onto his elbows, and turns his head slightly to look at Loki. His brother's eyes are wide, his expression hopeful and desperate. He can hear someone calling Loki's name in the distance, interrupted by the distinct clashing of swords. His knee is out of joint, but he takes a moment to snap it back into place, holding in his pain. Thor's strength is deeper than Loki realized.

"Thor, please..." Loki can't finish his words, as Thor's hand is around his neck, choking him. Thor is able to push Cerberus' body off of Loki's, granting him greater access to fight. But Loki doesn't struggle. Instead, he raises his hand in front of his lips, able to show Thor his signature "shh" sign, looking over at Pluto's form in the hallway. Thor understands that they must stay hidden, and releases his grasp slightly.

Loki gasps for air, and at that moment, Sigyn's calls have turned from a cry for help to a scream of despair and pain. She no longer yells out his name, and instead just bellows. Loki's eyes leak involuntarily at her suffereing, and he turns his gaze to Thor.

"Thor... please, I am too weak, please help her..." Loki is begging him to save Sigyn, aware that even shortly after revival, Thor dominates in strength.

Thor's anger is still overpowering any sense of chivalry for the woman. "Why should I help you, Loki? Why should I save her for your sake?"

"Thor, she..." Loki can hardly choke out his words. "Sigyn is my wife. She... she is my great love." His eyes close and more tears flow as she lets out a blood-curdling scream. "It may already be too late."

Thor's eyes shift to Odin's body, still cold on the ground. He looks Loki in the eye. "Revive my father, and I shall save your Sigyn. Do we have a deal?"

Loki wasn't prepared for a bargain.

"I said, _do we have a deal?_" Thor tightens his grip around Loki's neck and pulls his head in close, intimidatingly. Loki is trying to gasp for air, but is strong enough to barely nod yes in agreement.

Thor releases his grip and runs up the stairs, his red cape trailing behind him. Loki recognizes this symbol from his vision as well, understanding his impending debt. He watches Thor just as Sigyn lets out another long, painful cry. She is able to articulate Loki's name a final time, as the hall echoes fall into silence.

Loki lets his head fall backward onto the hard, stone floor. He mourns in despair, certain that he's lost her. Pluto's footsteps can be heard walking back through the hall, towering over Loki. Pluto notices that Cerberus is dead, and he even leans over to shake the animal's body. There is no response. Pluto shakes his head from side to side, but has many minions to call upon besides this monster.

Loki appears just as lifeless. Pluto is pleased at the carnage that infiltrates the judgment hall. The giant lets out a loud, shaking laugh of victory over his enemies, maniacally growing louder and louder, until it seems distant and reverberant. Loki hears him leaving the great hall.

Pluto has completed all he wished to do on Asgard, and he goes back to his underworld lair to rule the dead until his next betrayal.

...

Loki rolls himself over with what remaining strength he has to revive Odin. He hates the task, cursing every inch of movement, wanting it to be too late for any grand spell. But as he approaches the Allfather, luck is on Loki's side; Odin is awake, alive, but just barely breathing. Loki does not need to save his life. He only needs Thor to believe he has done so. He turns Odin's body onto its back, and props up his head to allow for better breathing, simulating any sort of care to show on Thor's behalf. Once Odin is staged, Loki stands, hobbling and leaning too heavily on one side. Thor has taken too long to return, and Loki knows what fate she met. He has not the courage to go up the stairs to see her body.

Loki leans hard against one of the few pillars still standing in the judgment hall. In the emptiness and loneliness of the makeshift battlefield, he lets out loud sobs of grief and mourning. She was barely his wife for a few days and he already lost her, put her in harm's way by his own accord. Sigyn was his one true match, the woman who loved him beyond all his faults. The one who showed him care without thought.

She was the one he loved.


	23. Defeated

Loki only stops when he hears Thor's footprints coming down the stairs. Sigyn's body is limp in his arms, and she is not breathing. Thor looks at Loki and shakes his head, singed from the firefight. Since they are not followed, Loki assumes that Thor was somehow able to snuff The Flame back into oblivion, but he was too late to save Sigyn.

Thor brings Sigyn over to Loki, who can't lift her well because of his re-injured shoulder. But he holds her up with one arm and pulls her close, crying into her hair. The gold helmet she wore while coming in has fallen off, and her eyes are closed. The gold and black paint she put on her eyes has streamed down her face from sweat and tears. Her lips hang open. Loki leans down and kisses them lightly one last time, feeling their cold touch; for once, he understands what it has felt like on her end of the exchange, his cool skin against hers, though he knows he won't feel her usual pressure in response.

Thor doesn't know what to say to Loki, so he leaves his brother to stand in his grief, holding Sigyn. Instead, Thor goes to Odin's side, propping him up further to help with breathing, taking off the heavier bits of armor that are surely suffocating him. It is late into the night and the city of Asgard doesn't know what transpired in the palace; surely they will when none of the soldiers return home. The morning will come before Loki is ready, and he cannot budge from his place against the pillar, frozen in heartache.

They are interrupted by footsteps in the hall. A single Asgardian soldier, who walks to both Thor and Loki, stops when the last remaining torch lights his face. The soldier looks at both of them, an expression of disappointment on his face. And the disguise dissipates.

Freyr stands before them both. Thor doesn't recognize him, but cannot think the old man is any sort of threat. Loki's eyes squint even harder to see him, looking down longingly at Sigyn's lifeless form in his arm. Freyr shakes his head, an 'I told you not to do this' sort of disapproval, but he walks to Loki's side. Just as Freyr reaches Loki, Heimdall can be heard stirring on the opposite end of the throne room.

"We must leave, nephew. We have to take her back to Vanaheim. She won't be honored here. You owe her that." Loki nods in agreement. Thor runs behind them.

"Loki..." He turns at his name, looking Thor in the face. He doesn't desire a crown, or a fight. He has lost everything. Loki's hurt seeps from his pores.

Thor lets him leave. This time, he won't have to watch his brother perish before his eyes.

...

Loki and Freyr return to the mountain fortress in much the same way Loki once did with Sigyn, what feels like ages ago. The people of the town cry as they see her body being brought into a tent. Loki's shoulder is still hanging awkwardly out of place, and the strong Vanir man who fixed it last time performs the task again. He is not scarred as before, but the emptiness of his broken heart makes his whole body numb. Loki doesn't even cry out when his arm is healed, nor does he say a word of thanks to the people who give their condolences to his loss.

Deep into the night, only a day after arriving in the city, Loki has gained a minimal amount of strength back. He was able to retrieve Sigyn's most prized possession, his green cape, and goes to the tent where her body lies to blanket her with it. He sits on the floor next to the small cot where she's been laid to rest, and cries against her hand, kissing her ring, saying how sorry he is for not paying attention to what Freyr and everyone else tried to warn him from. Loki feels as he did when he first met Sigyn, mourning the loss of his mother, blaming himself for her death. That he couldn't be there to protect her. That Sigyn was the only one who could pull him out of his sadness and make him feel whole again.

In his great sorrow, Loki whispers.


	24. Knowing One's Blood

When Sigyn awakens, her burns are healed. She feels her skin; it is soft and moist in the early summer's humidity. How long has she been asleep? Her memory tells her it was late fall when she was last conscious.

Sigyn opens her eyes slowly, and is nearly blinded by the sunlight streaming in her tent. No one is there to guard her, or greet her. She considers sitting up, when a visitor enters.

Loki looks simple and sweet in the morning light. His hair is much longer than she remembers it. He is not dressed in his minor armor, which he favored for so long after being healed; instead, he wears the same brown tunic that the other Vanir men wore in the mountain fortress. His eyes have not yet fallen on Sigyn's face.

"Good morning, Sigyn. Today we try again." His voice is kind and caring, as if they are having a pleasant conversation. However, Sigyn thinks Loki is speaking in riddles, and she turns her head to the side to look at him. When he turns from the corner of the tent, a wet rag in his hand, he is stopped dead in his tracks. The sight of her open eyes makes Loki fall to his knees. He drops the rag and reaches out to touch her face.

"You... _you're awake_?" Loki cannot believe it himself. She has been lost to him for months. When Sigyn fought The Flame, Thor had rescued her in time to save the delicate form of her body; exposure to the heat had collapsed her lungs and nearly left her beyond the hope of return. But after bringing her back from false death and finally hearing her lungs take in great gasps of air, almost all hope was lost that she would ever awaken. Since that night, he has come to her side every day, talking to her as she once did, hoping that some secret incantation would bring her back to him.

"Loki... wha..." Sigyn cannot finish her sentence as her lips are quickly met with his. He has tears pouring from his eyes in happiness. He kisses her over and over again, making loud smacks with every release, not wanting to let go.

"Sigyn... my Sigyn..." Loki coos at her with the words, filling Sigyn's chest with warmth. She leans in to take his face in her hand, caressing his cheek as she always did. Instead of gently receiving it, Loki's hand snaps up to grasp it in his, desperate to feel her touch.

When Sigyn tries to sit up, she is met with something disturbing. The body she is in does not look or feel like her own. Sigyn rests one hand on herself, the other still on Loki's cheek, while she raises her body upright.

There is a shine in Loki's eyes that tells Sigyn he is content in his station here on Vanaheim. His hand rests on top of hers. Loki places his forehead against Sigyn's and kisses her gently. He smiles widely, and pulls away to look her in the eye.

"Sigyn, my entire life, I was fed a lie that the people who cared for me were my family. That they were my blood." Loki is finally letting Sigyn in to the despair he's been holding to himself. His inner pain releases with every word. "Frigga was my mother, but I know that the blood running in my veins is not hers. It isn't anyone's." His brow is furled to the center, trying to relieve the burning of his eyes. Loki has never spoken to Sigyn about his true parentage. She assumed it was something dark and tragic for him, a truth he didn't want to admit. Loki's expression lightens while he continues.

"But I cannot deny you, Sigyn. _You_ are my family. You've granted me life in certain death. You handed me care when you had nothing left to give. Even when I tried to leave, you followed." Loki taps his fingers on hers. He looks dreamily at her, this time genuinely, his lip quivering in anxiety. Part of Loki's mind is still barely convinced that she is sitting up, awake before him, her dark eyes trembling at his words.

"Before, I was alone in my heritage." Loki kisses Sigyn softly for a long, final time, grasping the hand beneath his and squeezing three times. Loki's eyes meet Sigyn's, both of them threatening to release more joyful tears as his hand strokes her enormous, round belly.

"But now, you're giving me children."


	25. Epilogue

Loki sits beside Sigyn as she tries not to scream out in pain. His hand grasps hers, squeezing tightly with each passing contraction. Freyr and Grid give her various herbs to chew in hopes that the effort will be finished soon. They dare not use magic here, unsure of how it will affect the birth.

Several hours pass and Sigyn has made little progress. Her face is dripping with sweat and tears, but she still finds time to admire her husband's face. Loki's already pale complexion is completely void of color, anxious to see what will come. Sigyn hasn't considered the possibility of Loki's heritage taking over her womb until this moment. What sort of persons will her children be?

All the Vanir from the small mountain village are gathered outside of the birthing tent. They wait anxiously for word, busily gathering all sorts of cloth, passing the time singing songs quietly. Suddenly, the sound of a baby's cry can be heard, along with Sigyn's sobs of joy. Then, another young voice joins the chorus. Both children are born; the people await their reveal.

Loki exits the tent. In his arms, wrapped in cut scraps of his formal green cape, are two infants. They are quietly cooing, eyes still shut tight to the sunlight. Though Loki is standing proud, his face is drenched in tears, and his complexion shines blue in the light. His eyes turn from one bundle to the next, not sure which one to focus on.

Loki has never seen a person of his bloodline, save for when he killed his real father in an attempt to overwhelm Odin. The two helpless babes in his arms are his family.

"Great people of Vanaheim, may I present my sons to you, Narvi and Vali!"

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Please remember that feedback leads to better stories! This isn't the end for Loki and Sigyn :) Part 3 will come soon enough! Don't forget to leave your feedback on part one, Sigyn's Discovery!


End file.
